Too Close To Home
by I Feel Possessed
Summary: Callen and Deeks are sent undercover to infiltrate a group of home grown terrorists, drawing on their childhood experiences to maintain their aliases and bring the bad guys down.
1. Chapter 1

_"Then I got so tired and I wanted just to sleep_

 _But I could not close my eyes for fear of what I might see"_

 _Neil Finn: Widows Peak (Out of Silence, 2017)_

It was an area he had never felt comfortable exploring. The deepest and darkest recesses of his mind were mired with false truths, repressed memories and an ever increasing pot of contradictions. He was inherently a good man, and there were times he genuinely believed that. Until the darkness lured him towards self-doubt and self-loathing. Those time were infrequent but usually followed an intense period of guilt and an explosion of emotion. His life's career was dedicated to protecting others and serving both his community and his country, yet his daily activities were full of violence and death. If he were to be honest with himself he seldom had issues in reconciling the paradox. In the line of duty he could easily live with taking the lives of those who sought to kill others. It was the blurring of the professional and the personal that troubled him. He felt the darkness slowly encroaching and understood it had been gaining momentum in recent years. Did history repeat itself? Was he destined to repeat the pattern of his abuse filled childhood? Domestic violence cases with LAPD and previous cases as a lawyer, together with information in the public domain meant he was well aware of the statistics. Marty Deeks' personal nightmare was that one day he would become his father, and he knew for a fact the odds were stacked against him.

Such introspection was not a common occurrence but this time there was an obvious trigger. Psychological evaluations were supposed to be mandatory after each case but from what Deeks could gather, ever since the NCIS Operational Psychologist had actually become operational and ventured in to the field, such assessments had been placed on the back burner. Sure the team were subject to the official semi-annual reviews and were debriefed after long term undercover operations or particularly stressful missions, but the return of structured psych evals worried him. He knew he was not the only one. No one in the team enjoyed these sessions. Sam and Kensi had been through so much over recent years, and Callen...That man had his own demons, some of which were similar to his own. He recalled the cold-hearted ruthlessness Callen had displayed in Romania and later, when Hetty's life had been threatened here in Los Angeles. Yes, he was pretty certain Callen shared the same dark core. He realised in that moment they were all just waiting for the day someone realised they were so screwed up they should be locked away from society. He really hoped that today would not be the day. Not wanting to psychoanalyse his team, his thoughts quickly turned to the wonder twins up in ops and he silently acknowledged that even Nell and Eric had experienced their share of trauma. Maybe they were all doomed.

Deeks was seated on the sofa towards the edge of the boat shed's main living area - should anyone ever decide to move in. As he had sat down, he considered his physical positioning. Should he sit back and relax, sinking in to the depths of the sofa or perch towards the front so he was leaning forward, giving at least the impression he was listening? He was pretty sure that however he sat his body language could be interpreted in any which way that suited. Words could be spun most persuasively dependent on who was doing the spinning and the end game. Today though, he was genuinely unsure and so in an instant, he decided to relax as he had no reason to feel nervous or intense about the ensuing conversation.

'So what can I do for you today Nate?' Deeks asked with a broad smile to hide his introspective thoughts.

Dr Nate Getz sat opposite Deeks in a hard backed chair that although upholstered, did not offer the same level of comfort as the sofa where Deeks languished. He offered a brief smile of his own.

'Er, Hetty asked me to catch up with you and the rest of the team. Y'know, to see how you're getting on. It's been a while...'

'Sure has doc. We've just been running around the streets of LA, saving the good citizens from evil and generally making sure the world is all good. How about you? Any more deep, dark and dangerous undercover assignments?'

Nate gave a short, almost nervous laugh. He should have realised that Deeks would be the one to brazenly put him on the back foot so early. Neither Kensi or Sam had alluded to his last escapade that almost went so disastrously wrong. He couldn't say the same about Callen though, who alternated between speaking his mind and playing his own mind games. He had that delight to look forward to later in the day.

'That is classified information. But I can say that-'

'What? If you told me then you'd have to kill me? Is that even a thing? I mean sometimes we reveal things that we shouldn't, like now when I'm being evaluated by you. Does that mean I can technically kill you? Or a bad guy if I had to tell him - or her - something? But y'know I don't think that would stand up in a court of law. It's a pretty poor defence don't you think? Oh sorry sir, I killed him as I'm a super spy and I didn't want my secrets being revealed to anyone. It's all very James Bond-ish and in reality, they'd just throw away the key.'

Deeks gestured as though he were throwing away a key and then instinctively swiped his hair from his eyes before resting his right arm along the back of the sofa.

'What I was about to say, was that it gave me first hand insight as to the personal dilemma the team might experience when undercover, especially during long term missions.'

'You probably want to be having that conversation with someone else then. It's been a while since I was under that long. I just get the short term stuff. A day here, a night there. Last week I was undercover for literally twenty two minutes. At least I wasn't a janitor, that's what usually happens. But I guess there has to be someone on the team who's not afraid of getting their hands dirty. Or of course there's Artie - you know, homeless Artie, with the jacket..?'

'Ah yes, we all know Artie. Maybe some of us better than others.'

Deeks narrowed his eyes slightly, trying to work out if there was a hidden meaning in Nate's response. He quickly came to the conclusion that he had no idea and pressed ahead.

'I would say you can get to know Artie better if you wanted, but even Callen doesn't appreciate how method Artie is. Reckons he got so close he got a rash. And I thought he was the one person who would have an appreciation for the commitment and connection I have with Artie.'

'Deeks, I don't want to get to know Artie per se, and I'm not here to talk about how Callen got a rash from Artie.'

'Well that's pretty handy as Artie isn't even here. I think he's buried deep in the chest freezer out in my garage. But don't tell Kens that. She still thinks I threw him out. I like to think his time spent below zero will kill any bugs living in the jacket.'

Nate place his hands together and offered a silent prayer to whoever may be listening, that Deeks would actually remain silent long enough for him to do his job. He visually assessed the man sitting in front of him. LAPD Liaison Detective Marty Deeks was the personification of an LA surfer. His blonde hair was long and unkempt, matching his unruly stubble that probably hadn't seen a razor in at least a week. His white t-shirt was stretched across his body, just tight enough to reveal a toned six pack and strong tanned arms. The look was completed with blue denim jeans and a pair of boots. Nate was convinced the man would have been more comfortable had he been in board shorts and flip flops. A native of Los Angeles, Deeks had a casual and laid back air which Nate knew had irritated the team for quite a while. He shook his head imperceptibly. He was secretly envious of Deeks and the rest of the team. Their relaxed attire was a contradiction to the formalities that a career as a federal agent usually entailed. As the team's operational psychologist he had always liked to maintained an invisible line between him and his 'clients' through his own choice of clothing; shirt, open at the collar with no tie, pressed trousers and shoes that required and received a regular polish. It worked but on the flip side meant he sometimes found it difficult to connect on a more personal level.

'Deeks, the team have been through tough times over recent years, you included. I need to assess your suitability and readiness for a case Hetty feels will require a long term undercover presence.'

Undercover operations came with an adrenaline rush and a sense of freedom that he loved and Deeks' heart surged with an excitement that was quenched almost immediately. Kensi. He no longer had just himself to think about. Kensi was his partner in love and life, as well as work.

'How long is long term?' Deeks asked, knowing that whatever answer Nate gave would always be subject to change. The length of undercover operations had a tendency to be fluid with a dependence on how the case was progressing and what else was discovered.

'I don't have any of the details Deeks. Hetty asked me to touch base with each of you to report on your mental health. Last month's physical assessments are already with Hetty and she will use both reports to make her decision. How do you feel about the prospect of going under for what could be a number of months?'

'It sounds great but would it just be me or do I have my partner for back up. And what about the rest of the team?'

'I'm not here to discuss the rest of the team and I really don't have any details. Are you worried about being separated from Kensi?'

'That's not what I said.' Deeks shook his head and then brushed his hair out of his eyes with his fingers. It might not have been what he said but it was certainly what he meant. 'I mean that we work as a team and the last undercover op that lasted more than a week was when Callen went under with the white supremacists. He had no partner, no back up, no comms and that didn't turn out too well for him. And look what happened to you when you went under. I know it's sometimes better to go under on your own, but we work best as a team and when we can have each other's back.'

Nate leaned back in his chair and made a mental note to ask Callen about the after effects of the white supremacist operation. Deeks believed in the team, which was certainly a positive. He no longer considered himself to be an outsider and Sam in particular had stopped treating him as one. Nate had no idea how long term the LAPD liaison position was, but eight years was pushing it and he wondered why Deeks was not pressing to be an NCIS Special Agent. It was not part of his remit from Hetty but a natural curiosity overtook him.

'You've been on this team for many years now yet you're still with LAPD. I know Hetty has approached you about becoming an agent. What's stopping you?'

Deeks steepled his fingers together and leaned forward. That was the sixty four thousand dollar question. What was it that was stopping him? Was it the get out clause that if everything went to hell he could retreat back to a job he knew? What he liked best about LAPD and being a detective was the freedom undercover work had given him, however NCIS had provided him with structure, a partner, a team and a safety net during such operations, something that was severely lacking from the police.

'I just like things the way they are. I mean it's what I am, who I am. And I have contacts at LAPD, our cases often overlap, so I guess that means my liaising is still needed.'

'Do you think you'll ever become an agent?'

'Never say never.'

Deeks' non-answer was met with a wry smile from Nate who let the point drop.

'How would you feel if you were asked to go undercover to infiltrate a ring of child abusers?'

Deeks' eyes widened slightly and he looked slightly taken aback. This was certainly not the type of question he expected. If he was still with LAPD then possibly but NCIS worked naval crimes and their unit in particular specialised in infiltrating counter-terrorism and larger scale intelligence leaks.

'Is that the case?'

'Would you decline it if it was?'

'No. It's just sounds more LAPD. Unless the ring is made up of marines or navy officers..?'

'This is a theoretical question. It is not the mission. So how would you manage your emotions?'

'Same way as I always do. Remember it's only an alias and at the end I get to arrest the bad guys.'

'That sounds very simplistic.'

'Does it need to be complicated?'

'No it does not. I guess the bigger question is how you would react if you heard the bad guys describing the abuse or if you witnessed it?'

Deeks remained silent, contemplating firstly how he thought he should answer and secondly how he would really react. He held Nate's gaze.

'That's a difficult question as it would depend on the situation. Could I stop it without revealing my identity? It might depend on how severe the abuse is.'

'And what if you have to embrace your childhood? You've clearly made life and career choices for the greater good but what if you never had those opportunities? Could you go undercover as an alternative version of yourself? Drawing on the bad instead of the good?'

Deeks nodded slowly, glancing at his hands before switching his gaze back to Nate.

'I can do that. I've done that before.'

'Ah yes, Max Gentry. An alias that troubles you.'

'Yeah he troubles me but I can manage Max Gentry.'

Nate read between the lines and heard the slight hesitation, quickly followed by the resolute confidence in his voice. If Deeks were to be sent under as Max Gentry for a prolonged period of time, he could struggle to readjust. Hetty had already spoken to him about the time Deeks had become Gentry for an early case involving a childhood friend. He had lied to Deeks earlier; Hetty had fully briefed him on the undercover mission she was anticipating and he knew that Max Gentry was not an alias due to be recycled. Neither was any member of the team about to covertly join a ring of child abusers. Emotional fragility was however, a major concern.

'Thank you Deeks. I appreciate your honesty.'

'Is that it?' Deeks said, taken aback at how short the conversation had been. He had been expecting Nate to challenge his state of mind after the numerous traumatic events he had suffered second hand due to Kensi's Afghanistan experience and more recently with the injury she incurred in Syria. Or even further back to the nightmares he still occasionally experienced after being tortured himself. Still, he was good to go with the flow.

'Sure is.' Nate said. 'You can head back to ops now.'

'Ah, OK. You want me to send anyone over?'

'No.'

Deeks hesitantly stood up. He had no clue whether he had provided the answers Hetty and Nate were looking for and in all honesty was feeling rather confused about the whole situation.

'There is one thing though.' Nate said as Deeks began walking towards the exit.

'Yes?'

'This is a confidential conversation, between me as Operational Psychologist and you as liaison officer to NCIS. Please remember that and resist any temptation to discuss a possible long term undercover operation to the rest of the team.'

Deeks turned to look at Nate and nodded a silent agreement. He had no intention of discussing anything with anyone, although at a higher level he would of course mention it to Kensi. There were no secrets between them anymore. Well, hardly any.


	2. Chapter 2

A serene silence fell over the Spanish style building the NCIS LA team called home. It had been a quiet day work wise and the rest of the team had left over two hours ago. Only Callen remained seated at his desk. He was gently tapping away on his laptop, writing up the case reports that had somehow been neglected - until Hetty had rather brutally reminded him that as team leader, he should be setting an example with his paperwork, not demonstrating to the others how to avoid it. He still had three left to write and was plotting how to con Sam into doing the work for him, when he heard footsteps approach. The fact that he heard them meant it wasn't Hetty, and he breathed a sigh of relief. No, these belonged to a man. And since pretty much everyone had left, he knew exactly who was waiting patiently for him to look up.

'Nate.' Callen continued to stare at his screen and typed a few more words. He was well aware that he was the only one of the team who had not been subject to a psych evaluation in the past few days.

'Callen, I was er, wondering if I could speak with you. Catch up?'

Callen stopped typing. He slowly raised his hands to the laptop and closed the screen. He looked up, tilting his head slightly. A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.

'Sure. Need more advise on undercover work?'

'Um well, no.' Damn it, Nate thought. He could tell instantly Callen was not in the mood to play nice. If he wasn't careful, he would be the one needing therapy, not Callen. 'I need to speak to you in my official capacity as Operational Psychologist. Hetty's orders.'

Callen maintained his posture and kept the smirk on his face.

'Hetty's order? I wondered when you'd get round to me.' Callen leaned back in his chair. 'You've seen everyone else and even though I've technically finished for the day...here you are.'

'You have a tendency to be just as elusive as Hetty when it comes to psych evals.'

'So what, you wait until late and then talk to me in the bull pen, not knowing who is still in the building? You're slipping Nate.'

Nate pursed his lips at the slight barb from Callen.

'I was going to ask you to step in to Hetty's office. But if you rather, I'll chase everyone out of the building and you can lie down on the couch?'

Callen's smirk became a smile and he refrained from utilising one of Deeks' favourite expressions, touché.

'Nice comeback. We'll use Hetty's office but we're the last two in the building.' Callen stood and followed Nate who, rather than sit in Hetty's chair and risk her wrath by lowering it, grabbed a spare chair and positioned it next to Callen in front of the desk. All they needed was Hetty to appear and it would seem that she would be briefing them both.

'I'm all yours.'

'So, how are you getting on with the team?'

'Fine. Just fine Nate.'

Nate sighed inwardly. This was the first session held with Callen since the water boarding incident a few years ago and not surprisingly it looked like he was going to be even less forthcoming than usual.

'Good. You've had a rough ride with Joelle's betrayal, finding your father, half sister and nephew. Plus some tough operations, some undercover.'

Callen nodded in agreement and paused, waiting for Nate to continue, knowing full well he was expected to elaborate.

'Um, tell me how you feel now you've found your family.'

'I feel fine Nate. But I'm sure Hetty's shared my records with you on everything confidential.'

The sarcasm was not lost on Nate, however he decided the best course was to ignore it.

'She has Callen, it's part of her role and my duty of care to know. You've kept your sister and her son at a distance and you've got a lot of reconnecting to do with your father. But I'd like to hear it from you. You know exactly how these meetings work and what I have to report, so you could at least try to play ball.'

Callen raised his eyebrows at the barely concealed threat that if he wanted, Nate could turn in an unfavourable report which would lead to further psychological assessments and even temporarily remove him from the field.

'My father is - a complicated man. Thinks he can still use KGB ways in the States.'

'And how has that made you feel?'

'Confused. Neither of us are finding it easy, learning to be father and son after so long.'

'And how does your father interact with his daughter and grandson?'

'Fine. No problem there.'

Nate detected a hint of resentment.

'You must remember that you've grown up thinking your parents abandoned you, in and out of care homes...'

'Yeah, thanks Nate.'

'What I mean is your sister didn't have the same upbringing as you, and your - her - father risked his life to make sure she was safe. Again, it's easier for your father to connect with a five year old with no preconceived notions, but that makes it even tougher on you. You're struggling to establish a relationship with your dad and you're witnessing him connecting with his grandson when you never had that opportunity.'

'Yes.' Callen said, not wanting to verbalise just how challenging he was finding family life. 'But it doesn't interfere with my job.'

'You're very good - maybe too good at separating the personal from the professional.' Nate leaned forward in his chair, hoping it would convey to Callen the seriousness of their conversation. 'Look Hetty's planning a long term undercover mission and whoever goes under has to be more than one hundred percent solid psychologically. So I need you go back over two old cases to understand their impact on you; the child suicide bomber & the white supremacist operation.'

Nate observed Callen stiffen slightly before relaxing his pose and he realised he'd hit a nerve. He knew Callen became emotionally involved in cases that were personal to him, those concerning his past and Hetty and it was unusual for him to allow his feelings to affect other, more standard missions. Nate then recalled the John Donnelly case where Callen had developed a sexual relationship with his sister and at one point thought he may have fathered her son.

'OK. I spent hours in a cold water tank on top of a hotel trying to talk an eleven year old out of releasing the dead man switch and blowing us both to kingdom come.'

'You usually let Sam interact and bond with children. What made this one different?'

Callen hesitated before responding.

'Because I couldn't risk Sam failing and leaving his own kids without a father.'

Nate nodded. He knew Callen didn't have a death wish or think he life was worse less than Sam's. One of the many things Nate admired about Callen was that he always considered the wider picture and considered all angles. In this instance he was thinking of Sam's children.

'How did you get through to the boy?'

'I didn't. It was proof via a live video feed from Israel that made him want to live.'

'What changed his mind?'

'Nadir saw his triplet and his birth parents. The twin brother he grew up died earlier that day when his vest exploded.'

'That's pretty powerful stuff, finding your family.'

'Yes it is.' Callen agreed. The sarcasm disappeared and his tone was now serious. Callen was also mentally kicking himself for allowing Nate to easily manipulate the conversation back round to family.

'You stayed with Nadir until his real family arrived. How did you feel, observing that first encounter with his parents and brother?'

'I was pleased for him. He was the first person to call me Grisha. You were the second.'

The following silence cut through the air like a knife. Callen stared at Nate. It was a hard stare but not icy cold, which was a small mercy Nate gladly took. He might have to suggest to Hetty that another psychologist evaluates Callen in the future, although he was sure their next meeting would not be quite as challenging. Callen had coped admirably with Nadir and although he did not ask the questions, he knew Callen would have shared any of his own childhood experiences to help the boy. It must have brought back mixed memories, Nate thought.

'I've read reports you were pretty torn up when a young criminal member of the Aryan Supreme Alliance was shot dead by FBI Agent Rand. You tried to revive him and then immediately walked away from the scene and your team. I'm interested to know what made this undercover operation different from so many others, where you could easily maintain emotional distance - at least after the case.'

Callen folded his arms and again held Nate's stare. He had no intention of revealing his past or even telling him how he felt after the operation. It was a subject he tried not to think about at all. Charlie had been an alternate, albeit older version of himself and in a similar situation. Callen too had been living a bad life as a teenager, becoming immersed in crime. His robbery of the storage locker had been the final straw for the police when he was arrested. The fact he had later chosen to escape from juvie, steal a car and deliberately drive it at two LAPD vehicles meant he would have been sent to an adult prison at the age of fifteen. From there he would have continued to spiral in to an ever increasing life of crime. His instinct and ability to lie and to become other people had developed naturally as a child. Petty theft, breaking and entering and hotwiring cars had been learnt on the streets. It was Hetty's home education and later, federal training which had lifted those base skills to a higher level and for the greater good. Callen sighed audibly. He knew damn well he would have excelled at a life of crime, probably interspersed with jail time had Hetty not intervened in his life at such a pivotal point.

'Callen,' Nate said gently. The man may never trust him again but here and now there was really little choice. 'This undercover case Hetty's prepping for, it'll involve you embracing your past. I'm not privy to any of your juvenile records but I know something must have happened which made you turn your life around. Maybe it was a bad experience in a foster home, or a choice between breaking the law or saying no. I don't know. What I do need is the reassurance that you are mentally prepared for any eventuality, that you can remain undercover and still cope with anything from witnessing abuse to plotting away with the rest of the bad guys.'

Callen jutted his chin out slightly and slowly nodded his head.

'You know how it is Nate, you play a part too well, pal up with a bad guy and then reality bites. Just needed a while to decompress after that case.'

'I think it was more than that Callen.'

Callen decided to shut Nate down. He knew and appreciated the reasons why specialist undercover agents had to be evaluated but he'd had enough of Nate's bull for one evening.

'Think what you like. You can report back to Hetty that I'm good, screwed up or just plain refused to cooperate. The one thing I can say is that I've never tortured a colleague when I've been undercover.'

Callen stood up and walked away from Nate. He knew he wanted to make a difference in people's lives, to save them from bad situations, bad people or even from themselves. There were just times when he still questioned why he had been saved. He hadn't wanted to be at the time. All he wanted was to avoid jail and social services and he'd seen Hetty as an easy ticket out of hell. He knew he could have saved Charlie. His words had made a difference and Charlie said he couldn't...Charlie couldn't shoot him but Rand pulled the trigger anyway. Callen thought about his final words to Nate, recognising all too well they were a defence mechanism. By throwing the light back to Nate he could avoid conversations about himself. Callen ran his hand over his stubbly hair and absentmindedly thought it needed a trim. If Hetty wanted him undercover as an adult version of his fifteen year old self before meeting Hetty, then all she had to do was instruct him. He didn't need Nate tiptoeing around. He would cope. He always did.


	3. Chapter 3

The bull pen was unusually noisy for so early in the morning. The team had arrived at eight a.m. for a pre-arranged workout that started life as a sparring session and quickly morphed in to the two sets of partners attempting to best each other. A points structure was determined and challenges defined that included the climbing wall, a basket ball match and wrestling. Sam and Callen were still smarting at losing by just one point overall. Sam's good natured attitude had been eroded on the climbing wall after he repeatedly lost to Deeks and his competitive streak had taken over. Unfortunately this was after he seemed to have gone easy when wrestling Kensi, who had become decidedly angry that Sam had not treated her as 'one of the guys'. Callen had simply looked on in amusement whereas Deeks was openly happy that he had not had to wrestle with Sam. And he was ecstatic that he and Kensi had won the tournament. The arguments continued after their showers; technicalities, accusations of cheating and requests for rematches were all hotly debated as they sat at their desks. Thirty minutes later, Callen and Deeks had given up trying to talk sense in to their partners and were leaning back in their chairs, observing with smug grins on their faces. Sam was trying to placate a still irate Kensi when a shrill whistle interrupted them.

'Guys' Eric Beale leant on the balcony and shook his head. 'Y'know we can hear you in ops? And that means Hetty can hear you too...we have a case and she said whoever makes the next remark about your - quote "ridiculous game" unquote - will have to pass the Hetty Lange fitness test. Now I don't exactly know what that is, but I bet she'll make it impossible to survive...'

The team glanced at each other and Kensi mouthed to Sam.

'I'll get you back'

'Yeah, right. C'mon, let's before Hetty hears.' Sam muttered, looking towards the ops centre.

'You're so full of joy, big guy.' Callen remarked, standing and stretching. 'Anyone would think you're a sore loser.'

'G, do you really have a death wish?' Sam retorted. He was starting to wonder whose side his partner was on.

'Whoa man, you can't kill him for that!' Deeks laughed.

'Deeks, Hetty has eyes and ears everywhere.' Sam reminded Deeks as they walked up the stairs. 'Do you really think she'll let Callen get away with having the last word about this morning's training - after she said that she doesn't want to hear another word on it?'

'So you've got your partner's back. That's good to know.' Deeks spun around to face Kensi, walking backwards as she continued towards him. 'Kens, I just want you to know that I'm with you every step of the way, even after you mouthed the last words to Sam down there.'

'Deeks!' Kensi pushed past him and entered through the sliding doors to the operations centre.

Nell, Eric and Hetty were all present and standing in a row, waiting for the team to arrive. Eric peeled off and moved to his desk leaving the two women facing the large screen. Hetty turned to face Kensi, holding her stare until the younger woman broke away.

'You're so busted,' Deeks whispered from the corner of his mouth.

Kensi pretended not to hear him but could see Callen smirking from the corner of her eye. She was also pretty convinced that Sam was trying not to smile. It looked like being one of those days where the guys were just going to gang up on her. She thought she'd let them have their fun. Revenge would be hers to enjoy a little later, and boy would she make them pay.

'Mr Deeks,' Hetty reprimanded. 'This is not a playground.'

'Of course not Hetty,' Deeks looked down at his feet briefly before looking at the screen. 'Sorry.'

'And that goes for you too, Mr Callen.'

'What did I do?' A look of confusion washed across Callen's face.

'And Mr Hanna, you are also not above reproach.'

Sam narrowed his eyes and shook his head, wisely remaining silent.

'As I have heard all of you mention this morning's training fiasco - after you were warned - I've decided that you will all face the rigors of my training regime.'

The team groaned and started to protest. Hetty held up her hands to stop them.

'But that will have to wait. First we have a case of suspected home grown terrorism. Nell?'

Nell stepped forward and swiped her finger across her iPad and a grainy photographic image appeared on the large screen. It was clearly taken from a CCTV camera on a busy street. Nell quickly tapped the tablet and more photos accompanied the first.

'Ten minutes ago a number of simulated attacks took place here in LA.'

'Simulated?' Sam questioned.

'Yes, the attacks themselves appear to be threats of what might happen next time. Simulated as smoke grenades were used in a number of attacks that took place simultaneously at the VA medical centre in West LA, the social welfare office, tax office and at a realtor. At the same time, LAPD received reports that eggs were being smashed against the windows of this navy recruitment office. No one has claimed responsibility and we believe this is a warning of more serious attacks to come.'

'Any leads?' Kensi asked. 'All the places targeted will have cameras inside and out. And why do you think it's a warning to something more serious - it sounds more like disgruntled vets or someone that's lost their house.'

'I agree, at first glance it doesn't seem that serious, using smoke bombs and throwing eggs. But when you think about it...all the targets were carefully chosen and would have been staked out in advance. And as the attacks took place at the same time, it suggests there are a number of people involved. The smoke bombs weren't bought off the shelf and the bomb squad already believe they were rigged up to a cell phone for remote detonation. They haven't started analysing the materials used yet.'

'And lastly,' Eric added. 'As you said there is CCTV and video footage so we've just started to trawl through the days and weeks leading up to these events, which may take a while. What we do have though is this.'

The images on the screen faded into the background and were replaced with four different video clips of the VA, social welfare office, tax office and realtor. All were time coded at five minutes before the detonations and the common vector was a child. In each clip a child entered the shot with what looked like a bag of rubbish that was conveniently and cleverly left just inside the doorways. A fifth clip filled the centre of the screen, this time showing a group of four youths removing eggs from the carton and hurling them at the full length glass windows of the recruitment centre. All promptly ran in different directions before anyone could even begin to give chase.

'They're using kids?' Callen quizzed.

'Keep watching, Mr Callen.' Hetty said.

Visible at the edge of the frame in all except the recruitment centre, were adults with cell phones, texting or maybe dialling in to remote detonate the bombs. There wasn't just a single person, but at least four or five, most with the faces away from the cameras, wearing non descript clothes of jeans, plain t-shirts, sneakers and a baseball cap.

'This is why we're concerned. There are clearly a large number of people involved who are skilled in counter-surveillance, maybe bomb making, are clearly targeting Government establishments and have no qualms about using children. Homeland Security is already on the scene, working with LAPD but as a Navy recruitment and a VA centre have been targeted, they are welcoming our assistance.'

'So we gotta work alongside Homeland Security? They're not going to give us anything.' Sam complained. The others nodded in agreement.

'Just - play nice, Mr Hanna. And that includes you, Mr Callen...' Hetty warned.

Callen narrowed his eyes and refrained from answering back.

'What about the realtors?' Deeks asked, studying the images on the large screen.

'Well,' drawled Nell. 'This is a group who clearly want to protest about the welfare state, the US military, care for veterans. We think it's a home grown terrorist group who are disillusioned with the US, maybe they've had their homes taken away from them, their children. Somehow they've come together and pooled their resources and knowledge. We have already identified a person of interest.' Nell tapped again on her iPad. 'This is former Master Gunnery Sergeant, Joshua Lyneham, honourably discharged from the Marines back in 2003. CCTV shows him in the surrounding streets of the VA Centre five minutes after the grenades exploded, talking to the same children seen in the other photos.'

'But you'll always find vets and a vet medical centre Nell. Why pick him out of hundreds of others that were there this morning?' Sam had to challenge Nell's logic. 'And how do you know he wasn't just asking those kids if they were OK and where their parents were?'

'Lyneham struggled to readjust to civilian life. He attended psych sessions and was vocal about how they were not helping. He failed to hold down jobs and his behaviour became erratic which led to the breakdown of his marriage. He went to ground after his wife took out an injunction against him for domestic abuse. On one of the police files she's recorded as saying he never even looked to raise his hand against her until he returned from active duty. His ex-wife left the country with their only child and flew into Paris over ten years ago. Lyneham has no credit cards, no drivers licence, no forwarding address, no hospital visits, no arrest records, nothing since his wife disappeared. He was a ghost until facial recognition found a match just now. He was using a cell phone in the moments leading to the blast. We'll be looking to see if he appears in footage from the weeks leading up or if he shows up at any other sites.'

'But that still doesn't mean anything. Maybe he surfaced because he needs help now. Maybe he's been getting help using an alias? It can be hard for some ex-military to admit they need assistance.' Sam was getting agitated, which was clear for all to see.

'That may well be Mr Hanna,' Hetty said. 'But so far he is the only lead we have. I want you and Ms Blye to find him and bring him to the boatshed for questioning.'

The team paused and exchanged looks.

'You're pairing me up with Sam?' Kensi was bewildered.

'He's not that bad, if you train him right' Callen answered before Hetty could.

'What?' Sam shook his head at Callen and then stared at Hetty as Kensi just opened her mouth, ready to mirror Sam's objections.

'Thank you Mr Callen.' Hetty glared at the lead agent, before continuing. 'Ms Blye, Mr Hanna if you would oblige and start searching for Gunnery Sergeant Lyneham. I would suggest the VA as a starting point. As you both grew up in a military family you are more suitably qualified to work this angle together in the field... _Together_...' Hetty emphasised her final word to the new partners. 'Mr Callen, Mr Deeks, Homeland Security is waiting for you in the boatshed. They will brief you further on the intelligence they have gathered so far.'

Callen looked quizzically at Sam before turning back to Hetty.

'Look, Sam's right. Why are we focusing on one guy. There must be a number of other ex-forces men and women with a similar profile around the VA when the bomb went off. If he was a ghost before and he's involved in this - he'll definitely have gone to ground now. And what about the kids? Have you been able to identify them or the other adults who were on their cells at the time of the bombing?'

'They are all excellent questions Mr Callen, to which I expect you as a team, to find the answers. Miss Jones and Mr Beale are working through the CCTV footage and isolating further persons of interest. Now what are you all doing still standing here? You all have your assignments, now shoo!'

Hetty stared at each of her field agents, reading their hesitance and reluctance to swap partners as they followed her instructions and exited the operations centre. She also recognised that their leads were indeed rather flimsy. Still, she thought, at least they had a starting point.


	4. Chapter 4

Sam pulled the Challenger up to the curb and switched off the engine. He was still slightly pissed with Hetty for punishing the team for their earlier squabbling but he could at least appreciate the logic behind the partner swap. Their arguments should have been long resolved by now but for some reason they had all let it fester and continued to make digs at each other. Maybe time with Kensi would be good for them both, give them a chance to clear the air. Besides which, Sam figured that Callen deserved to be partnered with Deeks for a while. The two could annoy the hell out of each other instead of annoying the hell out of him. He smiled as he climbed out of the car and shut the door.

'What's so funny?' Kensi asked, joining Sam as they walked towards the VA medical centre.

'Just thinking this partner swap is not so bad after all - at least not for us.'

'Ah,' Kensi nodded her head, a smile also pulling across her lips. The pair flashed their badges to an LAPD patrol man and ducked under the cordon. 'You thinking Callen and Deeks won't get on so great?'

'Callen's not the most talkative and Deeks just doesn't shut up. I bet within two hours Callen will've ditched Deeks and gone off on his own.'

Kensi smiled. 'Deeks will talk non-stop I guarantee. I won't take that bet. D'you really think Callen will last that long?'

'Guess it depends on what leads they get from Homeland Security, if they give up anything of real use. G's impatient and building relationships with other agencies isn't exactly his strong suit. I can just see him disappearing on Deeks.'

Kensi surveyed the entrance of the medical centre. 'Doesn't look like the smoke grenades caused much damage,'

They walked through the automatic doors which were now switched to open. To their right was a large reception desk with papers strewn across the top and a few chairs haphazardly scattered, lying where they had fallen in the panic. The left of the entrance was a cafeteria, similarly abandoned with chairs were upturned, bags left where they had fallen, coffees and burgers now cold. Kensi walked towards the dining area and bent down to retrieve a discarded crutch.

'So these guys want to make a point about how America has let them down, so they target a place that is trying their best to help ex-soldiers start a new life?'

'Yeah, I know. That looks like Steadman, let's see what she knows about Lyneham. '

Kensi and Sam walked over to the manager of the VA centre, a tall woman in her mid fifties by the name of Sandra Steadman. Nell and Eric had provided some basic information on her; she had worked at the centre for fifteen years, first starting as Head of Psychiatric Care before assuming responsibility for the entire centre, a position which she had held for the past four years. Prior to that she had been a military physician, based in a variety of locations ranging from Iraq, Afghanistan, Germany and the Naval Medical Centre in Portsmouth, Virginia. Her record was impeccable and she had sacrificed the chance to have her own family in favour of a military career. She was in the company of a serious looking male, who was introduced as Scott Jenkins, her successor in Psychiatric care.

'Has anyone claimed responsibility for this attack?' Sandra Steadman asked directly, once introductions had been completed.

'Not yet no, but we are following up on a few leads and have a person of interest we'd like to talk to you both about.' Sam replied.

'Certainly,' Sandra nodded. 'Obviously the privacy of all the vets here takes priority. If we were to break any confidentialities it would put our reputation back by decades. Please follow me and I'll see what we can do to assist.'

Sandra smiled tightly at the two agents and turned, walking a short way to an office just left of the reception area.

'I like to be close to staff and veterans alike,' she explained, opening the door wide and allowing her visitors in first. 'Please take a seat. On directions from Homeland Security - and in line with our own security protocols - one of our first tasks was to check the integrity of databases, records of the veterans, their families and all our staff. Nothing has been taken and there is no evidence of any attempt to do so.'

'We're at a loss to think why we would be attacked in such a way.' Scott continued. 'We're here to help, to counsel and assist all those who come to us with difficulties adjusting to civilian life.'

'You also deal with those suffering from PTSD?' Sam asked, glancing quickly at Kensi who kept her attention solely on Sandra.

'Yes,' Scott continued. 'And we provide counselling for those who have suffered sexual trauma, bereavement, drug and alcohol abuse. That extends to families too. If this was a proper terror attack by ISIS, I know we would not be standing here now. There would be at least fifty dead and much more destruction...'

'Look we're working with Homeland Security and we're here to investigate a person of interest seen in the vicinity, a former Marine who suffered PTSD, name of Lyneham. Our records show he dropped off the grid about ten years ago. This is him.' Sam handed two photos to Sandra, one of Lyneham in uniform and another from earlier that morning, a grainy image captured from CCTV.

Scott looked over Sandra's shoulders at the pictures.

'I can't say his face is familiar so I'd say he's not a regular here.' He looked up at the agents. 'We do get a lot of vets who can only ever get as far as the entrance, or only attend one appointment. It can take a lot of courage to admit you need help, and even more to keep returning.'

'I can appreciate that, I was a SEAL. Took me a while to adjust...' Sam left the words floating, willing to vaguely suggest that he too, had sought help. In his own mind it would not be of use to admit that he had used their services. He would leave that to any empathy building conversations he may need to have in the future with Lyneham.

Sandra and Scott looked at Sam, and then across to Kensi who forced herself to relax and her expression to remain neutral.

'Ok,' Sandra tapped at her keyboard. 'There are archived records for Lyneham dating back to 2005-6 and then nothing at all until last week. He dropped in here last Tuesday morning to ask about counselling and was due to attend an initial session - at nine thirty today. Let me see.' Sandra moved her mouse and clicked several times before continuing. 'Yes, the receptionist Connor, booked him in at nine twelve, so your person of interest was here legitimately.'

Both her and Scott looked up at the Federal Agents expectedly.

'From the timings, I take it that Lyneham did not actually attend his session?' Kensi asked.

'That would be correct. The bomb went off a few minutes after his arrival. Most people scattered in panic, others instinctively assumed authoritative roles as though they were still in the military. The whole building was evacuated. I think we'll be pretty busy in the coming weeks.' Scott shook his head and smiled woefully.

'So can you tell us anything about Lyneham?'

Sandra looked back at her screen. 'As I said earlier, his records are confidential and I really can't tell you anything you don't already know. He originally came to us with PTSD and for counselling. The appointment this morning would have been to establish how he is, why he is after help and to suggest a plan to help him.'

'Did he leave an address?' Sam asked.

'No. A number of vets end up homeless, another stigma they have to deal with so we don't press for one.'

'Any indication that Lyneham's homeless?'

'Scott, can you see if Connor is still around?'

Scott exited the office and returned a few minutes later with the receptionist Connor, who was looking rather pale.

'Connor,' Sandra said. 'These agents are from NCIS investigating this morning's events. They have questions about a Joshua Lyneham that you booked in five minutes before the attack.'

'Sure. He was the last person I spoke to before it all went down. I'd say he's living frugally but unsure if he's actually homeless. There was nothing fancy about him, no designer clothes or expensive jewellery. His hair hanging just above his collar, he had slight stubble. He seemed reasonably clean although there was a very slight odour about him, with stained patches under the arms of his T shirt.'

'Wow, that's a great description,' Kensi commented in admiration.

'In our line of work we need to pay attention to everything, clothes, body language, words - as well as what is _not_ said.' Connor explained. 'We have to safeguard ourselves as well as other patients, although maybe it didn't work too well this time.'

'Well, thanks for your help. We might be in touch again.'

'Any time - and for anything else we can help with,' Sandra smiled at Kensi and Sam.

'We're both fine, although I'm pretty sure my usual partner could do with some help in the psychiatry department. He's not a vet though...' Sam returned Sandra's smile as they shook hands.

Sam and Kensi closed the office door behind them and headed back outside. The crowds of onlookers had thinned considerably, as had the number of LAPD uniforms. They walked back to the car both lost in their own thoughts.

'Callen's going to kill you if he finds out what you've said about him.'

'Well he's not going to find out now is he?'

Kensi held her hands up. 'My lips are sealed. We're no closer to finding out any more about Lyneham, let alone actually locating him. If he's homeless then he could be anywhere from Skid Row to the mountains.'

The short walk had taken them back to the curb side and Kensi leaned across the roof of the Challenger to face Sam.

'I know,' Sam opened his car door. 'This just feels like we're clutching at straws. Anyone could've done this. Why focus on just one man?'

'Something's not right. There must be more to Lyneham than we've been told.'

'Well let's hope the wonder twins can dig deeper and track his movements on CCTV. At least then we might have a trail to follow.' Sam pulled out his cell and speed dialled ops.

'Hey Sam,' Nell's answered.

'Nell we got nothing from the VA centre, no address. Were you and Eric able to track Lyneham's movements before or after the attack?'

'Well, after the attack Lyneham took a bus and it looks like he's headed to Palmdale.'

'Damn,' Sam swore. 'He could be prepping for another attack. The Air Force Plant 24 is at Palmdale. They manufacture military aircraft spares, and produce unmanned aircrafts, do maintenance on the F-117 Stealth Fighter. They have visitor attractions too.'

'Thanks Nell,' Kensi said. 'Keep us updated with his movements. And if Eric can give us a little help avoiding those red lights then we might be able to catch him.'

'Sure thing Sam. The bus route is not a quick one so we'll alert the local PD.' Nell signed off.

Sam fired up the Challenger's engine, shared a worried look with Kensi. Lynehan already had a head start and was surrounded by innocent civilians on public transport. If he reached Palmdale and could not be extracted safely there could be another attack, this time with lives lost.


	5. Chapter 5

Callen stirred his coffee slowly, focusing on the liquid swirling around his mug whilst listening to Deeks potter around the boatshed. He was tapping his fingers against the boat, the table, the back of the sofa - constantly on the move and clearly restless. Callen raised his head slightly and sighed before turning to face Deeks.

'What's wrong?' He asked bluntly, staring at the LAPD liaison.

Deeks stopped in his tracks. He was taken aback by Callen's question even though he was half expecting it. He inserted his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and rocked back on one leg, perfecting the casual look.

'What do you mean? What's wrong? There's nothing wrong with me. Nothing and there's nothing wrong with Kensi, nothing wrong with either of us...'

Deeks tailed off as he watched Callen take a few paces towards him with a slow smile spreading across his face.

'Deeks,' Callen said. 'You're protesting too much. We've been here five minutes, you've been fiddling with everything and you've not uttered a word until just now. You and me,' Callen pointed his left hand towards Deeks and then himself. 'We might not be partner partners, but today - we're partners. So what's up?'

'Partner partners? Really?' Deeks face lit up, his eyes flashing at the thought of having caught his team leader being ridiculous. 'That's the best you can come up with?'

Callen shrugged, the words had just sounded right to him. 'Yeah, and don't deflect. So what's up partner?'

'Well, there's nothing wrong really, but I just get the feeling that Hetty split me and Kens up for a reason. More than just her and Sam arguing this morning. I mean, I know she's happy that we're together.' Deeks paused and reeled himself in a little. 'Not you and me, me and Kens. But she's split us up before and sent Kensi away. Now I think maybe she's keeping us on the same team but still splitting us up, like, tormenting us, but then that means punishing you and Sam and-'

'I can't believe I'm saying this,' Callen muttered before raising his voice to a conversational level. 'Deeks, you're thinking too much. You know Hetty. She sometimes moves people around. We all need to be able to work as a team, rely on each other in different situations and that can mean switching up partners. I worked with Kensi a lot before you arrived, her and Sam - not so much. Same with us. So here we are.'

'How long d'you think this partner thing will last? I have to say you're not nearly as easy on the eye as my last partner...'

Callen remained straight faced. 'What are you trying to say? Are you calling me ugly?'

'Wha...no, that's not what I meant...'

'Agent Callen?'

The call was accompanied by a knock on the already open boatshed door and both Callen and Deeks turned towards the sound. A middle aged man, dressed in a dark grey designer suit entered the room, pausing as he waited for confirmation he was in the right place.

'And you are?' Callen remained where he stood.

'Agent Mark Beaufort, Homeland Security.'

'I'm Callen, and this is our LAPD Liaison, Detective Deeks'

Callen stepped forward and held out his hand. Agent Beaufort grasped it firmly, giving a short shake before turning to Deeks and repeating the action.

'I heard you guys before I entered. Wasn't sure I was in the right place. And I sure hope your last partner was a woman, detective.'

'She certainly is, all woman - this here is just my temporary partner, we're just switching things up a little.' Deeks replied with a sideways glance at Callen who was clearly content to let Deeks explain their overheard conversation.

'Take a seat.' Callen said. 'Can I get you a coffee?'

'Water will be fine,' Agent Beaufort said pulling out a chair and seating himself at the table. He scratched his head briefly and then removed some brown folders from his briefcase and placed them neatly in front of him. Deeks joined him at the table as Callen grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

'So what can you tell us about the attacks this morning. We've been briefed by our own analyst but would like to hear your take on events.' Callen asked.

Agent Beaufort looked at Agent Callen, summing up his character on first impressions. Clearly a man who spoke as he found, no frills and was used to being in charge. If small talk was not on the agenda, then he too would refrain from making any, which was unfortunate as he believed this was one of the reasons why there was so little voluntary inter-agency cooperation.

'Certainly, Agent Callen. We've been gathering intelligence on home grown terrorism for a number of years now, compartmentalising it into manageable sections. My specialist area is militia, mainly in the densely forested areas such as Idaho, Michigan, Montana and up in the wilds of Maine - you get the picture. We started hearing chatter about a group in Southern California, up in the Angeles National Forest.'

'What kind of chatter?' Deeks asked.

'Mainly disgruntled civilians, unhappy about their misfortune, nothing that made us want to investigate further. No militia gathering, just a bunch of people complaining about their lot.'

'You didn't send in local PD to check the area?'

'No, not then. But two months ago we heard they were becoming more vocal in their displeasure about the United States Government so we investigated. Just outside the rural town of Three Points is a ramshackle community with no name. An old ranch has been rebuilt. There are barns, outbuildings and trailers. We couldn't get close to them but word is they're stockpiling weapons and men. They're close knit, wary of outsiders and that was as far as it went. All we had were rumours.'

'So you have a small private community who dislike the Government, and a pile of rumours that they're stockpiling weapons and collecting men.' Callen's eyes bored into Agent Beaufort. 'You failed to investigate thoroughly, so how did you make the leap between them and this morning's attacks?'

Beaufort cleared his throat and looked away, deliberately taking his time to unscrew the cap off his water bottle. He took a long sip, swallowed and carefully replaced the lid thinking how he had made the correct assumption about no inter-agency cooperation or niceties on this case.

'The evidence is mostly circumstantial I'll admit, but my sources did identify two of the men from the community and just before I got here I received confirmation that one was seen at the VA Centre as the bomb detonated, the other at the realtor.' Agent Beaufort stopped as he opened the cover of both the files he'd placed on the table. 'This here is former private Anton DuValle, dishonourably discharged from the Navy back in 2010. Charges of attempted sexual and physical assaults were withdrawn due to a lack of evidence; the victims - locals - all disappeared. But repeated insubordination and several failed drugs tests were enough to shift him back to civilian life. And this is-'

'Joshua Lyneham.' Deeks said. 'We're already on to him, got a couple of agents looking to pick him up as we speak.'

'Good luck with that. He and DuValle served together although we're not sure when they hooked up after as there's no record of any contact since Lyneham's discharge - the man's a ghost. We wanted to have a chat with him but every time we thought we were close, he vanished. He's lived below the radar for over ten years. You're gonna need a whole lotta luck to get that bastard. We think they might've hooked up again at a homeless shelter and gut instinct says it's probably where they picked up some of these other people that now make up their group.'

Agent Beaufort gathered his papers together, shuffling them back in to their respective folders. He looked up at the two men seated in front of him.

'I'll made arrangements for hard copies of all records to be sent to your HQ, wherever that may be.'

'Is that all you've got?' Callen challenged, leaning forward to drive some intensity in to his words and to intimidate the agent before him. 'What's your intelligence say about their next moves?'

'As I said Agent Callen, we've not been able to get close to them. They can smell a Federal Agent a mile off and we weren't able to find a source nearby to be our eyes and ears. We accumulated extensive records on a number of shelters in and around LA where we think they've been recruiting men and women and we still have nothing concrete. The community is in the middle of nowhere, with patchy, if any GPS and cell coverage and wifi is about as alien to them as, well aliens. As with most militia, we strongly believe they're looking to gather momentum, acquire more men and eventually try and take down the Government. This first attack was minor, but the fact they have enough followers and could coordinate attacks on a number of places at once suggests they are testing the waters. We've done enough analysis over the years to know that groups like these step up for the next attack. Instead of using smoke grenades, they'll use bombs that will cause maximum damage, most likely take innocent lives. We received intelligence that suggests these guys have reached out to a radical faction of the Idaho Light Foot Militia, aptly named Northern California Light Foot Militia. They advocate violence in order to protect the Constitution and so Idaho are trying to disown them. These guys mean serious business and we're already tracking their weapons trading and explosives. This group here in LA is small-fry but we want your help in tracking down Lyneham and DuValle. I'll make sure you have access to all our records on the Northern California Militia and what little we have on this new group. I wanna take these bastards down _now_.'

Agent Beaufort stood and drew himself up tall and stretching his shoulders back. The action prompted Deeks and Callen to stand too.

'Appreciate the intel, we'll let you know how it goes.' Callen nodded.

'That would be great, Agent Callen. Our resources are stretched thin so any leads you can get...' Beaufort nodded his thanks and stooped to pick up his briefcase. 'I'll be in touch.'

He walked towards the exit, followed by Deeks who closed the door firmly behind him. He walked back to the table at sat down, this time opposite Callen who was sitting again and leaning back in his chair, a pensive look on his face.

'So what d'ya reckon to our friend at Homeland Security?'

'I reckon they've got nothing, no solid evidence. If Lyneham is as good as he says, we'll never find him unless we tear the community apart, and that would only end in a blood bath.'

'Maybe Sam and Kensi got lucky at the VA Centre, found a lead, followed it up and are bringing Lyneham here right now.'

'Really?' Callen raised his eyebrows in disbelief at Deeks' optimism.

'Well, maybe. It's probably about time we checked in with them.'

Callen made an exaggerated movement to look at his watch. 'I guess it has been what, over two hours since you last spoke to Kensi?'

Deeks pulled out his cell and smiled broadly at Callen. 'You know it brother,'

He speed dialled Kensi. 'Miss me?'

'Deeks you're on speaker...'

'And no I did not miss you...' Sam chipped in.

Callen glanced at Deeks. 'Our illustrious detective wanted to check in, make sure Kens wasn't causing you too much damage with that mean right hook of hers.'

'Ha ha,' Sam replied. 'Kensi and I are getting on great. How about you two?'

'We're good. Not missing our old partners at all.' Deeks retorted with hesitation.

'Really, Deeks?' Kensi said, her voice full of exaggerated hurt. 'You've replaced me with Callen already? Guess that time spent with Kirkin did change you after all...'

'Ok, ex-partner.' Deeks continued seamlessly. 'We've just had a chat with the lovely man from Homeland Security who said Lyneham's like the invisible man. Goes to ground better than even Callen.'

Callen narrowed his eyes at Deeks, unsure whether he should actually be taking that as a compliment. Deeks flashed a grin.

'Well then, that would explain how Nell tracked Lyneham getting on to a bus in Culver City to central LA, and then swapped to a bus up towards Palmdale.'

The smugness was evident in Sam's voice, this time causing Deeks to narrow his eyes in confusion. That certainly did not sound like the actions of a man who had lived for a decade under the radar and had just committed a terror related crime.

'Palmdale?' Callen questioned. 'That's not good with the airbase there. How far away are you?'

'Probably about another twenty minutes,' Kensi responded. 'Quicker if Eric keeps the lights green, Sam keeps his foot down and the bus keeps stopping.'

'You mean he didn't let you drive the Challenger? You'd've been there by now.' Deeks smiled at his own joke while Callen shook his head, thinking that both Kensi and Sam were probably mirroring his actions in despair.

'No Deeks, no one drives my car unless it's an absolute emergency, and even then they're threatened with death if anything happens to it.'

'But Callen's still alive.'

'Just...'

'Ok guys,' Callen interrupted, keen to get back on track. 'There's no point us trying to get to Palmdale. We'll go back to ops and work through the files Homeland Security are sending to Ops. If Lyneham is openly leading us to the next target then we need to find out what Beaufort got wrong about Lyneham and what he's missed.'

'Sure thing. We'll keep you posted.' Sam said, ending the call.

Deeks pocketed his cell phone and leaned forward against the table, focusing on his hands for a minute before looking up to find Callen staring at him patiently.

'Do you think Lyneham's gonna attack Palmdale?' Deeks held Callen's gaze.

'It's a possibility we can't rule out. This group haven't announced themselves, taken credit for this morning's attacks or made any demands. So far they're off the grid as far as the public, the media and even Homeland Security were concerned. And that makes them unpredictable, there is no pattern and no real intel. All we can do is wait and work the case from here. Sam and Kens are the ones on the ground now.'

Deeks slowly nodded his agreement and watched Callen exit the boatshed, leaving him to his thoughts. He abruptly pushed himself away from the table and raised a hand to his hair, sweeping it out of his eyes in a slightly nervous manner and followed his team leader to the door.


	6. Chapter 6

Less than twenty minutes after leaving the boatshed Callen and Deeks strode purposely in to the Mission. The ground floor was devoid of any activity and the pair immediately headed for the stairs, keen to hear the latest from Nell and Eric.

'Mr Callen?' Hetty's voice rang loud and clear, causing Callen to stop in his tracks at the bottom step.

Deeks and Callen shared a look before starting to move towards Hetty's office.

'Not you Mr Deeks, not yet.'

Deeks pursed his lips and muttered okay as he turned swiftly on his heel, leaving Callen to face the music on his own. Callen barely glanced at his new partner as he disappeared up the stairs. Instead he slowed down and wondered what Hetty wanted this time. Reaching her office, he pulled out the chair in front of her desk and set down with a barely perceptible sigh.

'There's no need for that Mr Callen.' Hetty said, steepling her fingers and tapping them against her lips.

'What?' Callen feigned innocence over his sigh. How could he have forgotten Hetty had bat-like hearing skills. He also rapidly revisited his actions and conversations from the day in case there was something about which he should be feeling guilty.

'Those sound like the words of someone who needs to confess. Do you?'

'No Hetty,' Callen decided today was not the day to partake in a verbal sparring battle. Hetty had already announced her intension to hand out punishments for minor squabbling and divided the established partnership. He certainly did not want to give her any more ammunition.

'I didn't think so. Now I want you to stop shaving and to let your hair grow. I want you prepared to go undercover with this group at a moment's notice.'

Callen stared at Hetty. These were orders with which he was familiar, to always be ready and flexible for undercover assignments. It sounded like he was to go in alone which was not unusual, but it went against the many principles Hetty had painstakingly attempted to drill in to him over the years and was generally not how his team worked.

'Is this a solo mission? Who's my backup?'

'Firstly I want to see how the investigation progresses over the next few days. My initial fear is we won't get much further than Homeland Security managed, but they don't have highly skilled agents at their disposal.'

'So if I go in, what will be my cover?'

Hetty smiled at her lead agent and held her index finger up to indicate he should wait. She reached behind her and placed a second bone china cup and saucer in front of Callen, who looked suspiciously at the fragrant tea which was now being poured.

'If I send you on assignment, you'll be infiltrating this group as a like minded individual, someone who has been wronged all his life by the American Government and society in general. Think about where you would have been if we hadn't met, the different path you would have taken through life. If you had been sent back to the juvenile detention centre and maybe solitary until your court case, and then served time at a state prison. On release you mixed with the underbelly of LA and then, rather than continuing a life of crime you joined the military to try and break the cycle. That lead to a career in black ops yet you couldn't escape your past. Regular, minor disciplinary charges for insubordination, going off the books and violent altercations led to an early discharge. PTSD kicked in, resulting in homelessness and dabbling back in to minor crimes...You get the picture.'

Callen lifted his chin slightly but generally remained unresponsive to Hetty's words. It sounded to him like she was laying out his what his future would have been had she not saved him. He had a sudden flashback to the many conversations - or rather lectures - he had experienced during his time in her care. It was an alternative he used to think of regularly but over the years had managed to suppress and push to the dark recesses of his mind. Such thoughts could not interfere with the confidence he exuded in his professional life.

'This is just a preliminary conversation Mr Callen. This operation may not even take place.'

'So just a request to start looking scruffy then?'

'Yes, Mr Callen. Be prepared, as the scouts say.'

'I was never a scout Hetty, they wouldn't have me. Did you partner me up with Deeks so we can work undercover together? I mean, he's scruffy already.'

'It's one of many possibilities I'm considering. Mr Deeks has not had many long term undercover missions with NCIS although he does have extensive experience with LAPD, albeit working alone. Sam and Kensi are also suitable candidates. They have military backgrounds and could go under as disgruntled vets. But I can hardly ask Mr Hanna to grow his hair in preparation now.'

Hetty smiled gently at her joke and Callen smiled with her. He knew full well that Hetty always played the long game. She already knew she would be sending him on this mission and she also knew exactly who would accompany him, as well as the full backgrounds of their aliases.

'You _knew_ about this before the attack this morning. This is the case you've had Nate challenging us about.' Callen leaned back in his chair and smiled knowingly. 'Nothing I've heard so far suggests this would be different to any other undercover op so why send in the psychologist?'

'Nate's analysis of you and your team has not yet passed my desk. Please don't read more in to this than is necessary. And before you go getting too many ideas Mr Callen you must continue to follow all the leads. You'd better join your new partner up in ops and start tracking your old partners progress in Palmdale.'

Callen scraped his chair back from Hetty's desk and nodded his understanding. Hetty too nodded and watched as her lead agent walked away from her.

NCIS:LA

Luck was on the side of the NCIS agents, and Sam and Kensi made excellent time reaching Palmdale. The bus had stopped regularly to allow a number of commuters both on and off and Nell kept them updated with confirmation that Lyneham was still on board. Traffic was light, meaning the Challenger cruised along, assisted by the absence of red stop lights which allowed them to arrive at their destination five minutes before the bus. Alerting ops of their plan, they requested local law enforcement officers be made available for back up and only on their request; Sam and Kensi had agreed to observe Lyneham's actions before deciding whether to arrest him. It was a risk they had discussed in detail but the coordinated organisation of the earlier attacks eventually led them to believe that Lyneham was headed back to his base camp, albeit in a rather circuitous route which possibly allowed him to scope out a future target. Sam had parked the Challenger in the car park adjacent to the bus depot and the new partners relaxed in to their seats, adopting a casual and easy pose as they waited.

The Greyhound bus pulled to a stop eighty meters away from the agents. The doors opened and the first passengers clambered down the steps; a family of three, the father picking his young daughter off the top step and swinging her round to the ground, her blonde hair and pink floral dress swirling with the motion. An old man with leathery tanned skin and a head full of grey hair hovered at the exit, lifting his head slightly and sniffing the air before he grimaced and hesitantly negotiated the steep bus steps. Next was a young girl of about fifteen, whose face lit up as she smiled at her waiting boyfriend. There was a slight gap before the final passengers made an appearance. Kensi had discretely photographed them all and she paused, dipping the lens slightly until the outline of a man passed by the second to last bus window. Joshua Lyneham emerged in to the shot. He turned back towards the bus interior and held out his hand. A child's hand grasped his and Lyneham exited with a seven year old boy.

'Where the hell did he come from?' Sam muttered as he speed dialled Nell.

'I don't know.' Kensi replied.

'Nell,' Sam spoke as his call was answered. 'Lyneham just got off the bus with a kid, a boy - looks about six or seven. There's no one else left. Go back through all the traffic cams and see where he came from. They've got no bags, just a light jacket. Nothing to indicate he's planning an attack here at the moment.'

'Will do Sam. Give me a few minutes and I'll get back to you.'

Nell ended the call and Sam turned to Kensi.

'You ready for a bit of shadowing?' He asked, a look of concern etched over his face at the latest development.

Kensi swapped the camera lens for a smaller, less obtrusive one and smiled tightly at Sam.

'Let's do it.'

Keeping Lyneham and the child within eye sight, Kensi and Sam crossed the road. They seemed to be heading in the same direction as a number of other pedestrians, towards the Blackbird Airpark of Palmdale's Air Force Base. The pace was unforced and the agents had to slow down and adopt the pose of visitors. Lyneham and the boy had the appearance of father and son. The former pointing out planes and clearly explaining some important piece of aircraft design whilst the child hung on to every word. With an animated gesture, the boy would become excited and fling his right arm out, pointing at a plane or a drone. The pair talked, laughed and not once was there a furtive glance towards the exhibition's volunteers and nor were any covert photographs taken.

Nell had called back fifteen minutes in to their tail. She and Eric had backtracked through the bus's stops, focusing on families and young boys. Several children had matched the description Sam had given them, and they had also grabbed an image of him from the Plamdale stop to ensure accuracy. They managed to trace the child to a woman in her early twenties who boarded the bus at the point of origin in Los Angeles. She was accompanied by another woman who had three children with her, one boy and two girls all under the age of five. Somewhere along the route, the two women and three children had exited and left the boy on the bus with Lyneham, who they clearly knew well and trusted. Eric had scanned the footage and discovered they had parted company at San Fernando. The pair were running facial recognition on the two women with no immediate results. Warning Sam and Kensi that it could take days for a match to come through, they were able to confirm that Lyneham's own daughter would be in her late teens by now and as far as they could tell, was not in the country. The best bet Nell could make was the child was from Lyneham's community and that he would eventually head back there later in the day with the boy in tow.

Sam acknowledged the information and then relayed it to Kensi, who agreed it was the most likely scenario.

'So I guess we continue to tail them and hope they lead us all the way back to their home.'

'I guess so too.' Sam agreed.

'This really does feel like a normal family trip. I remember my dad taking me on tours of the local airbases...' Kensi smiled at the memory.

'Yeah, me too.' Sam chuckled at the similar aspects of their childhood. 'I remember going to the Armed Forces day at Chattanooga. I must've been about that boy's age...'

'Oh my God,' Kensi stopped walking and placed her hand on Sam's arm. 'Me too. Y'know I hate to admit it, but maybe Hetty is right. This partner swap thing might actually be a good thing.'

'Hetty's always right. Mind you, I still can't see Callen and Deeks finding anything in common.'

'Well, they can compare notes on how to be annoying partners.'

'Yeah, but neither of them need ideas on how to improve on that. C'mon, lets grab an ice cream, I think we're gonna be here for a while.'

Sam and Kensi managed to enjoy a few hours together hidden amongst the tourists and were easily able to follow their marks. The pair conversed more on their upbringing with military fathers and discussed the pros and cons of relationships with work colleagues, with Sam offering advice from his personal experience with Michelle. Kensi found herself opening up to Sam, revealing her frustration with Deeks' inability to _not_ have the last word, and her love of his caring nature and sense of humour. Sam also spoke to Kensi about the positive changes he had witnessed since Callen had discovered and actually met his father. He also shared his concerns about the longer term heartache Callen might endure by starting a relationship with someone as independent as Anna Kolcheck. In his opinion, two strong minded individuals would create sparks of the passionate kind - which also meant fiery fights. When the conversation came round to Hetty the pair stumbled somewhat. Although both respected her immensely, they were well aware of her Machiavellian ways even though she usually had the best interests of the team at heart, even if it wasn't clear at the time. Having eventually exhausted work discussions, Sam and Kensi found themselves heading towards the exit. Sam reached in to his jeans pocket and pulled out his cell.

'Eric we have a problem.'

'What's up Sam?'

'We've exited ahead of Lyneham and the kid but we might have a problem with whatever they do next.'

'Copy that, let me get a visual from all the traffic cams in the area.'

There was silence for a number of seconds. Sam glanced around and nodded slightly towards Kensi. She turned and saw Lyneham and the boy were by the exit, chatting with one of the staff at the gate.

'OK,' Eric came back on line. 'I've got the exit, car parks, bus depot all covered and all major intersections. But if Lyneham leaves the fourteen as we think he will and heads out on Elizabeth Lake Road then we'll be blind.'

'Exactly what I thought...Thanks Eric, I'll head back to the car and leave Kensi here to tail them. If we can pick them up once they start moving then we will but we might have to call it off. Don't want to get him all spooked.'

Sam ended the call and turned to Kensi.

'I'll wait around here then.' Kensi said with a wry smile, understanding that she was less conspicuous than her partner. 'Y'know we still run the risk of being spotted. The Challenger doesn't exactly blend in with all the mom and pop cars around here.'

'I know. And if that boy is half as curious about cars as he is about planes we could be in a whole heap of trouble.'

Kensi watched as Sam made his way back to his car opposite the bus depot. Lyneham and the child walked hand in hand towards the main road. Kensi could discern no clear destination; they were wandering in the opposite direction to all the car parks and the bus depot. Suddenly the pair burst in to a brief run and headed towards two men and a woman who were standing on the grass verge about fifty meters away. Kensi grabbed her phone and speed dialled Sam, who confirmed Eric still had eyes on them. Pretending to be flirty on her phone, Kensi kept her observations and conversation low key. The small group spent a few minutes chatting and then moved to a restored VW camper van.

'That's it Eric,' Kensi said. 'Sam are you good to pull round the corner when I give the signal?'

Sam gave an affirmative and the team remained in stasis, waiting. It was a further five minutes before the VW pulled away from the curb with Lyneham, the boy and the three other adults inside. Sam drove steadily round the corner and stopped beside Kensi. Just as she closed the passenger door behind her, the VW abruptly stopped and the boy jumped out, followed quickly by Lyneham.

'What the...?' Sam started to say and then smiled as he watched the child grab himself and Lyneham desperately look around. 'He needs to pee.'

'Great.' Kensi replied. 'We can stay here and wait to get made or drive ahead and hope they're taking Elizabeth Lake Road.'

'Option two,' Sam said and slowly eased the Challenger on to the road, watching in his rear view mirror as the boy relieved himself against the fence, shielded by Lyneham.

'OK Sam, Kensi, they've just gotten back in the van. Taking their time - I think you'll be about three minutes ahead of them.'

'Keep us updated.'

'Will do.'

The Challenger cruised at a leisurely pace along highway fourteen for five minutes before taking the right hand turn, driving along the outskirts of Palmdale's residential area, the road becoming progressively narrower as they passed through Leona Valley, Elizabeth Lake and Lake Hughes, where the main road became Pine Canyon Road. Eric had long since stopped providing them with updates and Sam had eased off the throttle in the hope of catching a glimpse of the camper van behind them.

'Sam, we haven't seen another car in the last ten minutes.' Kensi turned to look at Sam, watching as he pursed his lips and knowing he was thinking the same as her. 'If we stop and let them pass us, we'll be made. If we carry on as we are we won't see where they turn off. And if we slow down to let them get closer, we'll probably be made too.'

'You're right,' Sam reluctantly agreed. He hated the thought that his Challenger could ultimately be responsible for them failing to get a positive lead on Lyneham and his camp. 'Best dial Eric and tell him we're calling it off for the day.'

'No signal,' Kensi shook her head at the no service message on her cell phone.

'If we keep going we can pick up the Golden State Freeway and head back. As soon as you get service, let the others know.'

Sam shook his head in frustration and glanced at Kensi. Their only lead was nowhere to be seen and without the assistance of Nell and Eric, they were officially blind and on their own. Homeland Security knew the approximate location of the community and they could only hope that Callen and Deeks had found an alternative angle and lead. So far, their investigations were going nowhere fast.


	7. Chapter 7

Deeks closed yet another file and added it to the rapidly increasing pile of thin cardboard encased records in front of him. Callen glanced up and realising that Deeks was getting bored and restless, deliberately ignored him. Deeks sighed loudly, grabbing the next file with an exaggerated movement. He in turn looked at Callen and was disappointed to see that he was engrossed in the file he was reading.

'Why aren't these all electronic? I mean, who uses paper anymore?'

'I don't know...' came the measured response from Callen. 'But I seriously think they should all be shot.'

'I hear you, man. If these were all on computer, the Nellster would've found out what these guys all had in common and narrowed down a list of suspects for us to chase. They all be in custody by now having confessed in full. We should be relaxing in the sun with a nice cold beer with the case closed.'

'Yeah, well clearly homeless missions think it's better to spend money on food, clothing and beds than invest in technology.'

'Since you put it that way,' Deeks conceded the point. 'Maybe we should just go undercover and stakeout the place?'

Callen looked up and just stared at Deeks. He wondered if it was a lucky guess, if Deeks was more intuitive than he gave him credit for or if he was just thinking aloud. Carefully closing the file, he placed it neatly in front of him.

'If you think for one second I'd go undercover with you and your stinking coat...'

'You'd love it.' Deeks enthused. 'Me with Artie and you - I know you can look just as homeless as me, I mean you looked pretty rough last time you went rogue.'

'Yep, not gonna happen. Have you actually found anything?'

'Couple of possibilities, you?'

'Same. Let's head to ops and see what the wonder twins can make of them.'

With Sam and Kensi tailing Lyneham for the best part of the day, Hetty had suggested Callen and Deeks visit some of the shelters in the files Agent Beaufort from Homeland Security provided. They were the type of places some returning vets had naturally gravitated when civilian life became too much. There were thirteen shelters on the hit list and they agreed to split up to cover more ground. The visits themselves were uneventful and the missions shared many of the same principles. They provided shelter without any questions, implemented hard rules about no drink or drugs and offered counselling and health services to those who either wanted or needed them. Unfortunately that meant many records contained false names and reams of handwritten notes. The confidential medical and psychological files had not been handed over and both the shelters and the agents knew these would only be made available through a court order.

There was little for them to go on apart from gut instinct, however the volume of vets that expressed their dissatisfaction with their treatment from the US Government was high. The shelters had highlighted a few characters which rang alarm bells due to attitude and behaviour, giving them a starting point. Beaufort had also supplied them with suspects which Nell was running through the system, together with the rather flaky details of their rural community. All suspects were former military men and women and all had disappeared under the radar within the last four years. Their last known location had been the streets of Los Angeles.

'Take a look at these,' Callen said as the sliding door to the ops centre closed behind him and Deeks.

He placed a dozen files on the centre table.

'Ah,' Eric said. 'You've finally finished going through them.'

The cocky look on Eric's face did nothing to ease the pain both Callen and Deeks felt at spending hours poring over a second set of paper files.

'Yes we have Eric,' Deeks said. 'So you'd better give us some answers in the next two minutes to show us how good you really are or you can look through the records from the next shelters we visit.'

Eric held up his hands in defence and muttered something about being a technical operator, not an analyst or even a field agent. He swung his chair back to his workstation and began to frantically type.

'How are Sam and Kensi getting on?' Callen asked, keen to change the subject.

'Well,' Nell replied. 'Not too good. They had a fantastic afternoon tailing Lyneham and the boy around the airport museum. They ended up having to move ahead of them or they'd have been made, but we're pretty sure they noticed the Challenger as the boy pointed as it drove by. We lost all contact and visuals soon after they headed in to the National Forest. Kensi called in about ten minutes ago as they're on their way back. There was no way they could stop or backtrack without getting noticed further so they had to call it off. They did report they witnessed no suspicious activity from Lyenham at all.'

'So we have no confirmation that Lyneham's base camp is near Three Points or who the kid is?' Callen's frustration was becoming evident and he paced in front of the main screen. 'Do we have anything to show for today?'

Nell tapped her tablet and the image of a young boy appeared in front of them.

'Meet Tyler Jacobs. We ran the woman he boarded the bus with through facial rec and we got the name Lizzie Jacobs, aged twenty, born here in LA. She's grew up in an abusive family, mother a drug addict, father a musician who was frequently absent. When he was around he was drunk, sold drugs, beat his wife and daughter. She ran away from home aged ten, lived on the streets, was in and out of foster care and sent to juvie after being picked up by LAPD. She had Tyler four years ago, aged sixteen - father unknown. Tyler was taken in to care three years ago after Lizzie was arrested for prostitution. She finally proved to a judge that she could look after herself and her son and was awarded custody four months ago. Her current address is a small apartment above a hair salon in Little Armenia, Sunset Boulevard.'

'Good work Nell.' Callen tilted his head towards her slightly in thanks. 'What about this ranch where Lyneham and the rest live?'

'Not so much on that. We reviewed the data Beaufort gave us which includes satellite images of a make shift camp three miles south of Three Points. Eric checked satellite pictures from a week ago - the camp no longer exists so we expanded the search of the area and found what looks like a former ranch which backs up Beaufort's information. There are a number of outbuildings and barns with vehicles parked around. If you look closer,' Nell enlarged the image on screen. 'There seems to be maybe a fifty or so people dotted around the area.'

'Who owns the ranch?' Deeks asked.

'It was owned by a man called Buck Chapman who passed away fourteen years ago. No next of kin and the property was left abandoned. It's set way back off the main roads, it's basically a dirt track to get there.'

'Very private.' Callen commented.

'Bingo!' Eric called as pictures of three men and one woman flashed on to the screen. 'Meet our suspects. You already know Lyneham on the top right. Beneath him is Anton DuValle who Beaufort told you about, known associate of Joshua Lyneham. Also part of their posse on top right is Jeb Williams, AKA Raider due to his serving time for robbery. He's also former military - Delta Force - all his special ops records are redacted. He's also off the grid and occasionally surfaces at the shelters in LA. So far facial rec has drawn a blank on the woman. I did cross reference their faces with camera footage in the lead up to the bomb attacks, and the woman was at the realtors twenty minutes before the smoke grenade exploded.'

'So it seems like we're on the right track with the homeless shelters.' Deeks said.

Nell had been flicking through the documents Callen and Deeks had brought up, speed reading and skimming to visually confirm if there was more than the obvious common vector the two men had found.

'Ok, so most of these files are from the same shelter, the Sanctuary Outreach Centre downtown. They help homeless and low income families and veterans.' Nell leaned against the interactive table. She had carefully laid out the paperwork into neat piles and paused as she concentrated her attentions on the contents of the handwritten forms. 'Hmm.'

'What is it?' Deeks asked.

'Well all these records have been made by the same administrator.'

'That's not uncommon,' Callen interrupted. 'These shelters have the same core staff on duty and interacting with the visitors so they can build up trust. And most of them are run by volunteers.'

'True. But it does seem a big coincidence that the individuals in these all had their paperwork completed by the same person over a three year period. Eric, run the name Frederick Patten through the system.'

'Sure,' Eric tapped at his keyboard and within a few seconds the military files of one Frederick Patten flashed up on the big screen. 'So this shows he was in the same unit as Lyneham and DuValle.' Eric said.

'And that makes him a suspect. He was collecting names or identities of visitors to the shelter in case they could be recruited. Preying on the emotionally vulnerable to fight with Lyneham against the Government and its policies.' Callen shifted his weight from one foot to another as he ran scenarios through his mind. 'I think we leave him in play for the moment. He could be our way in to the group if we need to go in under. But first we need to have a chat with Lizzie Jacobs about her son and her involvement with this group.'

'I'll send the address to your cells.'

Callen nodded his thanks and glanced at Deeks, who stared at the picture of Lizzie and Tyler that now took up a small portion of the screen.

'Let's go.'

'Sure,' Deeks turned on his heel and following his team leader out of the operations centre.

* * *

It took Callen and Deeks almost forty five minutes to battle through the LA traffic and reach Little Armenia. Lizzie Jacobs's apartment on Sunset Boulevard was located on a small block of drab concrete buildings that housed a beauty salon, a DVD outlet and a liquor store. Only the salon was open, the other two stores had steel shutters across them. Signs on the doors stated they were due to open mid afternoon but the fact they were still closed swayed the partners to wonder if they were closed for good.

Lizzie lived above the salon and Deeks spent about five minutes flirting with the hairdressers before finding out there was a separate entrance for the apartment at the rear of the building. Callen had remained outside, not so much to be a look out but to develop a general feel for the area. He loitered around the liquor store and wandered to the edge of the DVD shop, disturbing two young teens smoking a joint next to the refuse bins. Callen realised the entrance to the apartments would be to the rear and he had no desire to ruin Deeks' moment or to make inane small talk with the hairdressers or their patrons.

'Round the back then?' Callen asked when Deeks finally emerged.

'How did you-'

'You're not the only one who can detect, Detective. And you looked to be having so much fun that I wondered if I should call Kens.'

Deeks ignored Callen and instead led the way to the back of the buildings, this time causing the two teenagers to beat a rapid retreat at the approach of two slightly menacing men. He rapped loudly on the door and stood back, waiting optimistically for their person of interest to answer.

'Who is it?' A female voice called.

Callen and Deeks glanced at each other.

'NCIS' Callen replied. 'We need to talk to you about your son Tyler, we think he may be in danger.' Callen decided to appeal to Lizzie as a mother, hoping she would open up immediately.

'NC - what? You like some new child protection agency? Coz I can tell you now that I've worked damned hard to get my son back and there is no way in hell he is in danger. I'd die before you took him again.'

Lizzie's voice became louder and higher as she began to panic.

'We're Federal Agents. We're nothing to do with social services but we think your son is with a man who is very dangerous.'

'We need to talk to you about him.' Deeks added.

The lock turned stiffly and the door opened a few inches, held in place by a security chain. An elfin face appeared in the crack.

'Show me your ID.' Lizzie's voice was strong but the fear was evident in her eyes which darted from Callen to Deeks and then back again.

Both men slowly held their IDs close so Lizzie could see. She scrutinised Callen's as though reconciling the American man with the Russian name on his badge. She reluctantly removed the chain and nimbly squeezed through the gap until she was outside.

'You know this man?' Deeks showed Lizzie the CCTV picture of Lyneham from earlier that morning.

'Yeah.'

'And his name is?' Callen asked.

'Josh.'

'Surname?'

'Lindell.'

'And how do you know him?' Deeks said.

'He's my boyfriend.'

'Do you often let your four year old son stay with boyfriends?' Callen asked somewhat harshly.

Deeks glanced at Callen, ready to act as mediator should Lizzie take offence at his partners words. He understood how protective and headstrong Callen became when vulnerable children were involved in cases.

Lizzie for a second looked as though she had been sucker punched. She quickly recovered herself and stared defiantly at Callen.

'Don't you dare judge what you don't understand. You pigs are all the same. We've been together six months. He's a good person and would never hurt Tyler - never.' Lizzie's voice cracked slightly as a small slither of doubt entered her mind. 'Shit, why are you asking this, what do you know?'

'It's OK, calm down Lizzie,' Deeks took over from Callen. 'We think Josh Lindell is really Joshua Lyneham and we need to confirm his whereabouts this morning.'

'Umm I met him on a bus with some friends. He was taking Tyler to Palmdale first to see the old planes...Tyler loves planes, cars, buses, trains...Is he OK?'

'What were Josh and Tyler planning to do next?'

'Um, Tyler's staying over with Josh at his ranch for a few days to give me a break. Have you seen him, is he OK?'

'Our agents followed them round the airport and to the edge of the national park. They reported that Tyler seemed very happy and excited. He didn't seem to be in any danger, so maybe it's a case of mistaken identity.' Deeks reassured.

Lizzie let out an audible sigh and closed her eyes briefly. 'Look, you need to take me there now.'

'Has Josh ever behaved in a threatening way to you or your son?' Callen asked. He recalled Lyneham's file and knew the man had been subject to a restraining order from his wife and own child when he returned from duty.

Lizzie shook her head and Deeks took a step forward, hoping she would trust him.

'I honestly don't think your son is in any danger from Josh. But we need to find Josh to rule him out of our investigations. Innocent until proven guilty. He is just one of a number of men of interest and we have to run down all the leads, one by one. We both know what you've been through Lizzie, and believe me neither one of us would leave Tyler with Josh if we thought there was a chance he would be in danger.'

'But he said...' Lizzie pointed at Callen.

'I needed you to open the door and talk to us.' Callen took the hit and silently prayed that Deeks' words would not come back to haunt them. 'Look we can send someone to get Tyler if you want, but that might scare him more. He's been in care, same as you. It took a lot for you to trust the people you've left him with and Tyler must've been happy to go with them. I don't want to undo that - it's a trust he might never get back if it's undone too many times.'

Callen's words struck Lizzie as being honest and heartfelt, even if his opening gambit wasn't.

'OK. If I tell you where this ranch is can you just like send someone to watch him? He's all I have and I can't lose him again.'

Callen nodded his agreement as an idea formulated in his mind.

'No, you can't just nod, you gotta promise me. You're the one that's got me scared now so you owe it to me to do this.' Lizzie's voice began to rise in anger and frustration.

'I promise that someone will watch Tyler tonight.'

Deeks narrowed his eyes, wondering how Callen could make such a promise to a mother about her child without any way of honouring it.

'It's an old ranch near Three Points in the Angeles National Forest. You get there by an old track that leads off Pine Canyon Road about three miles out. There's a sign above the entrance that says um, Ramblers Ranch. I don't think it's the original sign. Josh lives there with a load of others - like their own community away from all this shit. They're slowly rebuilding everything. Even have a few horses...' Lizzie tailed off. 'Are you sure Tyler's not in danger? I mean you still want to question Josh and that means you might wanna talk to some of the others?'

'I would never leave a child in danger, but yes we might want to talk to some of his friends.' Callen continued with his thread of honesty.

'Look Lizzie,' Deeks interjected. 'When Tyler comes home tomorrow, why don't both go away for a break somewhere? Distance yourselves in just case. You trust him with your son but he might be a little upset if he finds out you've talked to us.'

'Where am I'sposed to go and with what? I'm on handouts that barely keep me and Tyler alive. I can't turn tricks in case the cops and social find out. I have nothing. You people are all the same, pretending to understand, telling me what you think I wanna hear.'

'We have safe houses, there's one along the beach front, just down from Venice. It's small but perfect for you two.' Callen had instantly thought of Hetty's beach house. 'I can guarantee that it's free and safe.'

Lizzie looked unsure. She was struggling to understand that the man she knew as Josh Lindell could be a Josh Lyneham who was a person of interest to the Feds. She felt safe with Josh and trusted him as implicitly as Tyler did. The older agent was right though. Trust did not come easily to either of them. She also realised that despite her natural instinct to grab Tyler from the ranch right now, the fear and confusion she would create for her little boy would do more harm than good.

'I've been let down before, spun lies and shit, just to get me to grass on someone. How do I know that you won't just hang me out to dry like the others?'

'He has the authority to get you to a safe house,' Deeks pointed to Callen. 'And he can also guarantee that Tyler will be under observation all the time he's at the ranch. I know these are only words, but you can come with us and tell us everything you know about Josh and the community he has set up at the ranch. Then our operations manager Hetty can speak to you. You'll trust her. I guarantee it.'

'I do sorta believe you, but...' Lizzie bit her bottom lip.

'It's OK,' Callen said. 'I understand. But like Deeks said if you come with us you'll see we can protect you and Tyler. If you still doubt us, you can leave at any time.'

'Ok, give me five to grab some stuff.'

She quickly darted behind the door, leaving it ajar as proof she did believe the pair and disappeared inside. True to her word, she returned five minutes later with a small suitcase and a rucksack. Deeks took the bags from her and they walked back round to Callen's car and started the drive to the boatshed.

* * *

 _Thank you for all the follows, favourites and comments, I appreciate each and every one of them._

 _Wishing you a Merry Christmas & a happy New Year._


	8. Chapter 8

The day was rapidly drawing to a close when the team finally reconvened in the bull pen. The sun was setting and the natural light was disappearing fast; time was running out to make good on the promise made to Lizzie, that a protective eye would be kept on her four year old son Tyler and the team could not come up with any viable plans. Sam and Kensi were out of the equation as after Palmdale, they could be recognised by Josh Lyneham or even the boy himself. That left either Callen or Deeks to infiltrate the ranch at short notice.

'They're a close knit community Callen, tell me how you think you're gonna get in with them tonight? And even if you do, you won't have back up and you'll have to move on the next day.'

Sam was in a bad mood. He had driven for miles and had very little show for the afternoon's stakeout. He was tired and hungry and also rather pissed that instead of going home to kiss his wife and daughter, he had to rationalise Callen's hair brained ideas on how to gain access to this group just to keep a promise to a single mum.

'I'll drive an old car up there, break down a mile from the ranch and hike. I'll be a former marine - black ops - who's been anti-establishment and Government all his life. Promise to be on my way the next day. They'll let me crash somewhere and then realise they could use my skills in their next plots.'

'It's not very sound, Mr Callen.' Hetty had silently approached the group and she stood still, surveying the team. None of the ideas so far had been convincing. In fact Callen's idea was the best of a bad bunch. Deeks had wanted to go in as homeless bum, thinking they would take pity on him. The entire team agreed that as soon as anyone encountered Artie, he would be banished to the furthest outpost for the night and kicked off the property the following day. 'You know my feelings about militia groups, it is too risky to go in with a half cocked idea.'

'Hetty, these guys are not militia.' Callen protested. 'Homeland has no evidence only tenuous connections. Until we get in there we have no idea. They didn't kill or injure anyone today so maybe this isn't as big as you think. You were thinking of sending me in anyway so you must have my alias already backstopped. And I gave my word to Lizzie that I'd protect her son so I need to leave here soon.'

'I understand you made a rather rash promise. And having met her earlier, I had to acquiesce.'

'No, this is stupid,' Sam spoke up. 'Callen can't go to the ranch now, it'll be midnight by the time he arrives and he'll probably get his head blown off by a paranoid guard anyway. We've seen the old pictures and new satellite images. There's no way I can be in overwatch. There's hardly any cover.'

'I understand your concern Mr Hanna, believe me I do. I think it best only one person goes in tonight, but I don't think it should be Mr Callen.'

Callen looked away from the team in disgust. Before he could open his mouth to voice his displeasure, Hetty continued.

'A lone female is much less threatening or suspicious. Nell will go in as a hiker separated from her group. She can stumble on the ranch from an old trail.'

'We can't send Nell in alone.'

'Why's that Callen?' Nell asked. She knew she was a long way from the high standard reached by the field agents, but her confidence and fighting skills had been advancing over recent months. Callen's attitude had instantly put her on the defensive and she knew he was itching for this op.

'Because we can't give you any back up.' He answered evenly.

'Exactly the same as I was saying about Callen,' Sam jumped to his partner's defence. 'And he has a lot more experience than you.'

'I understand that, but I'll be there for less than a day. They already have women and children there so I won't be in any danger. And if I'm a lost hiker, I can get away with carrying a knife and maybe a gun or rifle.'

'Then it's settled. Eric, Nell, return to ops and create an alias and backstopping for Nell. Then come back down and see me dearie and I'll find you suitable attire. The rest of you can decide how and where Nell can best be left stranded.'

Nell practically ran up the stairs with Eric following. The team could hear him talking quietly as he tried to keep pace with her, reassuring himself as much as Nell that she would be perfectly safe. The field agents reluctantly agreed with Hetty's sentiments. This plan was the most logical and Nell was capable of managing. They still had their concerns but Hetty had put her foot down - and so had Nell. Instead they poured over maps of the area and analysed the ranch's location. It took them less than ten minutes to agree that Deeks would drive Nell to the area and leave the road a few miles south of Three Points. The ranch was also set to the south and a number of dirt tracks led off Pine Canyon Road, all snaking their way through national forest. The back story was Nell had been hiking with friends and aiming for Burnt Peak. A disagreement saw her storm off in anger having left her compass and half her bags with her long deserted friends. Having walked for a number of hours she came across the outskirts of the ranch and thought she'd ask for help and shelter for the night.

Time was not on their side although the cover of dark would make the journey much easier. Nell was supplied with a powerful torch, earwig and button cam, together with water and snacks in a light weight rucksack. Satisfied Nell was as prepared as possible and briefed only to observe unless Tyler was in danger, she and Deeks left the mission. Kensi, Sam and Callen left for home with an order to remain on standby should they be needed.

The agents had all received an alert later that night, confirming that Deeks had dropped Nell at the agreed location and within the next hour another message was received, advising she had made contact and all was going to plan. They now had to trust that Nell could survive the night without incident and then make her own way back to either the camp or to LA.

* * *

The agents reconvened the following morning in the bull pen where hot coffee and bagels were in order. Continuing conversations from the previous day, Hetty had finally agreed to an undercover operation. The best way to infiltrate the group was by invitation and it would be Callen and possibly Deeks undertaking the challenge. Frederick Patten from the Sanctuary Outreach shelter would be suckered in to brokering the deal but patience would be required as Lyneham and his gang would be on high alert to strangers. On a private level, Hetty had already sown the seeds for an undercover character that was an alternative version of Callen, who now fully agreed with the reasoning behind his new alias.

'Look we need to take a leaf out of Hetty's book and play the long game. These guys are not going to refer the first Vet of the day to Lyneham and DuValle. Patten will never have seen me before and they'll all be paranoid. I know I would be.'

'G, you're always paranoid.' Sam interrupted.

Callen tilted his head to acknowledge Sam's point. 'We need to plant records and files at other shelters and at various vet hospitals. I'll need a minor criminal record, sealed juvie files and a redacted black ops military background. My backstopping will have to be watertight.'

'We can do all that Callen, goes without saying.' Eric confirmed.

'I'll come up to ops and work through this legend with you.' Callen offered. He wanted his alias to be fairly close to his own upbringing but with key changes from his later teen years onwards. More jail time and a somewhat dicey start to a career in the military, before specialising in operations in Russia and the Middle East. He would be highly trained in clandestine activities including assassinations and black ops, fluent in a number of languages and with a record littered with trips to the brig for insubordination and other behavioural problems.

'Sure thing.' Eric nodded.

'This mission needs more than just you in the field.' Sam stated. 'We don't know how ruthless these guys really are. The former military personnel will be able to handle themselves but if the intel is correct, there will be civilians who are just as pissed at the government as the Vets. We need someone to connect with them and no offence G, you're not really the most sociable of people.'

Callen narrowed his eyes and looked somewhat offended at Sam's words. He knew his partner spoke the truth but he had created plenty of aliases where he had easily fitted in to various social groups. Worryingly when he thought back to those specific operations, he had always been undercover with the criminal elements of society.

'And this is where I step in!' Deeks stood up and took in his audience. 'I am Callen's - temporary - partner and we'll have each other's backs.'

'And what are you going in as?' Kensi asked, clearly not impressed with the lack of attention Deeks seemed to be paying to the seriousness of the operation.

'Well I am glad you asked Kensilina, as I've been thinking about this a lot.'

Sam sighed audibly and shared a look with Callen.

'And I've been thinking there really is a place for me and Artie. The key to the ranch is through the homeless shelters so obviously is makes sense for me to reintroduce Homeless Deeks to the citizens of LA.'

He smiled triumphantly and placed his hands in his front jeans pockets. The smile faded a little when no response was forthcoming.

'No? OK. I could go in as a disgraced cop from vice or the drug squad? Or a divorcee who's wife kicked him out of the family home, he lost his job, fell on the wrong side of the law and has been living in half way houses for the past year?'

'It's always best to base an alias on some element of truth,' Sam said with a serious look in his face, but a twinkle in his eyes.

Deeks looked up but could see no signs of malice in Sam's face or demeanour. A few years ago and it would have been a different matter. There would have been a hidden meaning and an overt amount of disrespect. But Sam's words still cut at Deeks. He was under the shadow of the internal affairs investigation and at the beck and call of LAPD Detective Whiting, whenever she needed a subtle favour like befriending suspected bent cops. He was still concerned it would only be a matter of time before someone, somehow, opened his little box of secrets. Maybe he shouldn't have been so keen to suggest being a disgraced officer.

'The latter sounds plausible.' Kensi thought out loud. 'I could give you some practice tonight and kick you out of the house.'

'Yeah well, maybe that's not strictly necessary.' Deeks quickly backtracked.

'OK.' Kensi continued exploring threads of her plans. 'How about if you had some connection to Callen's alias? You need to be invited to the ranch too.'

'What you mean like we were best friends, that we had a bit of a bromance, going on?'

Callen looked amused. 'Yeah I don't think that's a good idea. Sam is already mad that he can't go undercover with me and any thoughts you have on a bromance will just push the green eyed monster to the forefront.'

'We don't want Sam going all hulk on us now. So we'll have to be family. Brothers, cousins?'

'No,' Callen shook his head. 'You can't be a blood relative. Foster brothers might work. If we stayed in the same foster family for a while and sort of kept in touch.'

'Well if you're bringing some of your crappy childhood to your alias then I'll stick to mine. Gives me a reason to drop out of society and-' Deeks drew himself to an abrupt halt, suddenly realising that the more he spoke, the more he would be talking himself in to a hole with Kensi, as she would very soon be drawing parallels between Deeks alias and the real Deeks.

'And..?' Kensi leaned back in her chair and scrutinised her partner.

'And..?'

'You were saying that if you based your alias on your crappy childhood, you'll naturally be a drop out - and?'

'And whereas Deeks found the pathway to righteousness with becoming a lawyer and a police officer to protect those unable to do so, my alias followed the dirt track to the dark side.'

Kensi smiled at Deeks, tenderly this time and with no intention to call him out. Suddenly the case felt very personal to all members of the team. The silence between them lasted several minutes as they considered the personal sacrifices the two men were making, living as alternative versions of their real selves. The self reflection was abruptly interrupted by Eric's shrill whistle.

'What was that for?' Sam asked. 'We can't have a new case, we're barely started on this one.'

'No,' Eric said. 'Nell's back home. She just called to say everything was easy, the boy was fine and Lizzie collected him mid morning. Nell actually hitched a ride back with them to LA. She'll be coming here in about an hour.'

The team collectively breathed a sigh of relief. A small and unforeseen hiccup in the early stages had now passed uneventfully and they hoped Nell managed to pick up some intelligence that would assist them later.

'Oh, and Hetty wants to see Callen and Deeks up in ops.'

Sam and Kensi both looked on, aware they were being shut out at such an early stage but both refrained from saying anything.

'It'll just be Hetty giving us the low down on the aliases and reminding us not to get lost in our legends.' Callen reassured the others.

'Yeah I know. Just doesn't feel right G, me not being there to have your back.' Sam said, watching as the newly paired odd couple took the stairs two at a time.


	9. Chapter 9

It had been by consensual agreement that Callen would go undercover alone for the first few days. He would make himself known to the homeless community on the first night, behaving in a manner that would result in him spending the night in a police cell. The second night he would attempt to find refuge at the Sanctuary Outreach Centre. Nell and Eric had created a detailed back stop for his alias - Rob Gladstone - from social services files, sealed juvenile records, to criminal records, and of course his military history, complete with heavily redacted reports. Hetty had already advised Callen to mentally prepare for the mission and to immerse himself in his wayward past, wallowing in the 'what would have been', had he never met Hetty. She did offer him some premission counselling with Nate Getz, which Callen had not surprisingly refused. Neither he or Nate had divulged to Hetty the details of their encounter when Nate 'kidnapped' him. Nate's toying with Callen's trust, his life long quest for his identity and the subsequent water boarding, left him more than a little reluctant to reveal his innermost thoughts.

Callen occasionally frequented the streets at night, donning old clothes and wandering to areas where the homeless gather. His favourite haunts were the shelter in East Hollywood which incidentally was only a five minute walk from Little Armenia where he and Deeks had met Lizzie, Tyler's mother. He always preferred the back alleyways of Venice, which also housed various low key bars, less than salubrious cafes, hostels and a soup kitchen. Both locations held rather an oddly fond spot in his memory. The first few times he ran away he had gravitated towards Hollywood, as many other children did. The area was poor and decidedly unsafe. At night the streets were full of male, female and child prostitutes. Pimps approached teenagers who were new to the area and worked with drug pushers to draw them in to a lifestyle from which they would struggle to escape. Callen had become street smart at a young age and managed to avoid becoming ensnared with the promise of a roof over his head, free meals and easy money. Through talking with others of a similar age, he quickly realised that young runaways also gathered in Venice and once there, he felt safer and it became the place to which he had always run. The area itself was very liberal and the policing much less stringent than neighbouring Santa Monica. Callen would even have gone so far to say that Venice welcomed the homeless to its coastal community. It had only been since he relocated to Los Angeles to join NCIS, that Callen had started to return to these spots and particularly noticed the changes in the past few years. He witnessed an increase in homeless youths camping out on the boardwalk, sleeping on cardboard during the daytime and in tents and other makeshift shelters at night. There was also a visible increase in the number of people sleeping on the neighbouring streets, in doorways and in cars. The atmosphere itself had not changed much and he still felt safe wandering around at any time of the day and night, and as any alias. When returning as a fellow homeless citizen, Callen had always remained anonymous, never revealing his name or giving away any personal information and that made it easier for him to return this time.

He had been kitted out by Hetty earlier that day after placing his cell, wallet, watch and NCIS ID safely in his locker. The only items of worth he now possessed were his earwig, button cam and a drivers licence in the name of Rob Gladstone with a long outdated address. Callen also had a tracking device which he was contemplating whether to ditch along with the earwig - just temporarily to make sure he had privacy at the start of his op. He realised his team had to track him and he made a promise to himself to collect them before he made his way to the Sanctuary Outreach Shelter. For him, this was where his undercover mission really started. A few spare clothes and a couple of random but worthless possessions were stuffed in to a battered rucksack and Callen decided he would stock up on cheap suitable food once he was on his way.

As planned, he left the mission in the Challenger with Sam driving and they headed just north of Venice towards Ocean Park. From there Callen would walk back to Venice along the boardwalk.

'I'm still not happy about this G.' Sam shook his head in worry. 'You're gonna be out there for days before Deeks joins you.'

'I'll be fine and it's only two days. I know what I'm doing and where I'm going. You know I'm the only one who can do this?'

Callen rested his elbow on the window frame and stared at the LA traffic. He could sense the increasing frustration his words and actions were having on his partner.

'That's not what I meant and you know it. And Deeks could do this, he already looks the part and has that God damn awful coat. You should have someone in overwatch, just in case.'

'Sam I've done this before, being homeless.'

'Yeah, by choice. But when was the last time you literally had nowhere to stay?'

Callen turned his head towards Sam and their eyes met. Sam could see the reluctance in his partners eyes but he just had to have this conversation. He had to try and make Callen see that he was not alone, even though everyone had agreed that for the first stages of the mission, this was the only way to go.

'Plenty of times as a kid. And if I've been homeless through choice as an adult, then it was for good reasons.'

'Coz you're too stubborn to ask or accept help or you actually enjoy being awkward.'

Callen smiled and shrugged his shoulders. He wouldn't answer that question. Both he and Sam knew it was a bit of everything. What he wasn't going to do was admit that he would miss his home and the comforts of his bed.

'Are you gonna stay on comms?' Sam asked blunty.

'Of course,' Callen lied. He still hadn't decided if he would or not. He had returned to staring out the window. These conversations Sam insisted on were really not helping him mentally prepare for his undercover alias.

Sam sighed loudly and deliberately. He knew exactly what Callen was going to do and he had a sneaking suspicion about why. Ever since he had tracked Callen the previous year and witnessed him mingling with the low-lifes and down-and-outs, Sam believed his partner regularly moved amongst the LA underbelly. He may not have seen any outward recognition between Callen and those he had encountered that night, yet there had been an unspoken familiarity. He as convinced Callen was going to ditch his comms.

'Hetty won't be happy. At least promise me you'll be back on comms by the time you reach the Sanctuary centre?'

Callen remained silent, figuring it was the best option as there was a high probability that Hetty had bugged the Challenger. He sat still for a moment, waiting for Sam's cell to ring and for Hetty to chew his ear off, but nothing happened.

'Drop me at the end of the car park opposite Ocean View Park. You'd better make it look as though you're throwing me out of the car.'

'For what? At three in the afternoon?'

'Why do you think a black man would throw a rough looking white man out of an expensive muscle car, just north of Venice?'

Callen had said the words evenly and in a manner which challenged Sam and his partner visibly squirmed. It was not so much that Sam was unfamiliar with the seedier way of life, but rather did not like to admit how close it really was to their everyday lives. For a moment he hesitated and it crossed his mind as to why Callen had thought up this scenario and if he had witnessed or even had any close encounters like this as a kid. He quickly pushed the thoughts to one side, realising that even if he had enough courage to ask Callen, the man would never grace him with an answer.

'Ok,' Sam agreed and continued driving in silence for three more blocks, following Callen's instructions.

The car park was almost empty. Most of the cars were parked further north in Santa Monica, closer to the beach front hotels and the pier and being a Wednesday, the beaches were naturally quieter. The far end of the parking lot was closest to South Beach Park and just as they pulled up a family with two young children were piling bags brimmed with beach paraphernalia in to the trunk of their car. Sam looked at Callen and an unspoken signal moved between them. Sam slammed on the brakes and leapt out of the car, rushing round to Callen's side. In a single movement he whipped open the door, grabbed Callen by the collar and threw him to the ground. Sam reached inside the car and threw Callen's rucksack at him.

'You're a filthy, cheating bastard. A hundred bucks, like hell. Here's ten and I hope you choke on whatever crap you buy with it.'

Sam stormed off and jumped back in his car, leaving a handful of dollar bills fluttering down near Callen, who remained on the floor, listening to the screeching of tires as the Challenger sped away.

Callen lifted his head slowly and breathed out. He'd landed on his shoulder and could feel a bruise forming already. The family were ushering their children into the back of their car, both parents glancing in his direction and hoping not to make eye contact. He moved to a seated position and reached to his side, picking up the money which had settled on the asphalt.

'Are you Ok?' A male voice tentatively spoke and Callen turned around to see the father had approached him, but remained a safe distance away. His wife stood by the open passenger door, poised with a cell in her hand in case there was any trouble.

'Does it look like I'm Ok?' Callen responded, remaining where he sat. 'I've just been thrown out of car by the black version of the hulk, so no of course I'm not OK.'

'Can I call anyone for you? Maybe a doctor?'

Callen rubbed his arm and stared up at the man who took a few steps back, concerned at the anger which emanated from Callen.

'The only thing I need from a doctor, I can buy down Venice Beach.' Callen stripped back the anger and instead spoke in a low and steady voice.

The man turned on his heels and quickly marched back to his car, almost driving off before the doors were closed. Callen had heard the sound of the doors locking and congratulated himself on a job well done, whilst at the same time disliking the character he had become. He stood up with his bag and noticed a few of Sam's dollars had drifted towards another car. Without thinking, Callen walked over and picked up the money. He now had the grand total of ten bucks. Not much to go on, but not impossible he thought. He trundled towards the boardwalk and started his way south to Venice. There was no point rushing as the days and nights on the street were long enough. He was aware he looked scruffy clothing wise. His hair and stubble was a little longer than he usually kept it for work, so he was still presentable. It would take weeks for his hair to grow and look unkempt so he would have to take advantage of his current look. It meant he could persuade people to think he was respectable and just didn't take care of himself too well. He also still had a menacing air about him that he could utilise, particularly in order to get noticed for the wrong reasons later that night.

There were no shelters in Venice which was one of the reasons why the homeless were visible, making camps and sleeping on the boardwalks. Callen knew of several half way houses and abandoned properties where people congregated if they did not want to sleep outside. A half way house was usually only by invitation, such as when a parole hearing ordered an individual to stay there. He had no tent, no beach umbrella that could be used as a shelter. He did not even have any cardboard to lie on. He had no need to worry about a bed for the night for a number of hours yet and instead when he strolled into Venice, he sat outside a coffee shop and paid for a drink. Callen's idea was to remain visible and appear respectable, certainly for the short term. It meant he was free to browse the nearby shops without the extra scrutiny that was frequently applied to the homeless. And without that scrutiny, he could steal small items such as biscuits and drink which would see him through the next few days. It was an extreme weight loss diet Callen wryly thought, knowing he could afford to lose a few pounds. Besides which it was always fun to test out the shoplifting and pick pocketing skills he had first learnt as a child.

A few hours later, a bus load of tourists arrived and flooded the area where Callen sat. From experience he realised he had about thirty minutes to take advantage of the swell of the crowd and a sudden energy overtook him. In a decisive move, he looked at his wrist to a watch he no longer wore and left his table, looking around him and shaking his head as though annoyed that his peaceful afternoon had been interrupted. He threaded his way through the tourists, his hand sliding in and out of pockets and bags as he brushed past his victims. A minute later he was clear and walking with a steady purpose to the public toilets. Once inside a cubicle he surveyed his winnings. Two cells, three wallets and a packet of chewing gum. The cells were the latest iPhones which Callen would have to ditch quickly. Most tourists would have the 'find my iPhone' function and that was a sure way for him to be arrested. The real prizes were the wallets and he chose to open the thickest one first. Callen pulled out the ID card belonging to one Frasier Bent who lived in Seattle. Sliding the card back, he went straight to the bill section and was not disappointed. Clearly Frasier Bent from Seattle had never heard of pick pockets and Callen counted five hundred dollars, all neatly parcelled in fifty dollar bills. There were also a handful of receipts from the Four Seasons Hotel in Beverly Hills. Callen smiled and thought that Mr Bent should be relieved he was only pretending to be a criminal. He now had his home address, the name of his hotel , all his credit cards and cash. Callen could have easily formulated a plan to rob this man blind if he were not a law abiding NCIS agent. He tucked two hundred dollars in to each sock and hid the rest in various pockets of his clothes and rucksack. He repeated the actions with the remaining wallets, but was only rewarded with about fifty bucks between the two. He wiped his prints off the wallets and threw them behind the toilet. He repeated the action with the iPhones and exited the cubicle.

The sun was slowly setting across ocean, causing vibrant reds, oranges and purples to scorch the sky. Evening tourists were now bringing the area to life and the street performers revelled in entertaining with magic tricks. Small groups of youths hovered outside the medicinal marijuana shops and the sickly sweet smell of smoke became stronger as night fell. Callen was now sitting on a bench with his back to the beach. He had his eye on a spot to the left of him. Several people had built shelters next to a palm tree and his plan was to move in on their territory, get arrested for affray or assault and spend the night in jail. Before he could put this in to action, he had to get his face seen at the soup kitchen, a few blocks away. He knew from experience there was always one or two people who tried to make conversation, usually do-gooders who wanted to help or to ease their own conscience. Less frequently, another homeless person would start talking. This time Callen would have to engage in conversation and give them a reason to remember him so when the police came asking, word of his existence would spread.

Every evening a food truck parked up in the lot to the rear of the shops which fronted the boardwalk. It had been manned by the same group for at least the last seven years which was when Callen had started approaching it once every few months. He always made sure his demeanour was such that no one interacted with him and he only ever asked for the bare minimum of food. He may have had an unnamed alias to keep up but he did not want to take the food from the mouths of those who really needed it. True to his plan, the couple serving hot meals were the same as usual. Through his own investigations he knew they were Larry and Ed Price, married in Vegas ten years ago and they first met right here in Venice when they were down on their luck and in need of support. Callen approached the truck's counter and made eye contact with Larry, who greeted him warmly, as he did everyone.

'Good evening, friend. Not seen you around for a while, hope you're keeping well?'

Callen chewed on his bottom lip and looked away in to the distance, then dropped his head to the floor before glancing back to Larry.

'I...um...'

Callen forced his eyes to become glazed as he struggled for words and played on the naturally caring nature of the man in front of him. Larry nudged Ed and tilted his head towards Callen in concern. He was a familiar face to them in the sense he was not a regular patron but every so often would visit in a pattern that had been ongoing for years. There had also been long periods of absence and one time when the mystery man had resurfaced, he looked ill and had lost weight. Gaunt was the word Ed had used when they had decompressed after a particularly busy evening. About a year ago he turned up looking a complete mess; long scruffy hair, unkempt beard and a lost look in his eyes. But this was the first time their patron had attempted to answer any of their welcoming questions and the first time the man had literally looked to be at breaking point and wanted to talk. Ed nodded his head in an unspoken agreement that Larry should approach Callen directly. He grabbed a bowl of chilli and a hunk of bread and gently led Callen by the arm and together they sat on the curb.

'Y'know believe it or not, I've been where you are now. Maybe not for many years but me and Ed, we were both destitute for while. We met about two blocks from here and got chatting. Turns out we'd both been kicked out of our homes for coming out. We were lucky that something good came from our bad situations. We found each other and managed to give something back to people here. Life can get good again.'

'It's...er...everything is shot to shit.' Callen said slowly and in a quiet voice. Larry strained to hear him. 'Sometimes things are good, I get a bit of work, find a cheap bed and then they find me. They always find me and I have nothing for them. I gave them everything and now, now they want more.'

'Who are they? Do you owe money?' Larry had always wondered what this man did and where he disappeared to.

'The government. They've done this to me. They should've saved me from this - they did - and then they chew you up and spit you out. And I've ended right back where I started. Was there a bombing today, in LA?'

The question was asked at random and took Larry by surprise.

'Yeah, well a few days ago. A few smoke grenades got thrown at a Vet's medical centre and a Navy recruitment office - might've been army - can't recall. I think some realtors got hit too.'

'Good. They made me what I am and they want to get back inside my head.' Callen looked up at Larry, his blue eyes clear and lucid. 'They want to get back in my head, rummage around and then throw me away, just like they did after Iraq and Yemen. I can't let them do that. They have to understand, they have to _change_.'

'Who has to change?' Larry asked quietly.

'The government.' Callen whispered his response, then his voice began to rise as he continued. 'The government is responsible for you, for me, for everyone here. They say they'll take care of us and then they chuck us out with the rubbish. So we have to live amongst the trash. Families live on the streets coz they've lost they've jobs, can't pay the mortgage and their home is taken away. I've seen it happen. You get kicked out at eighteen and no one wants to know. Who claimed the bombing? It wasn't terrorists was it?'

Again the conversation had turned on a dime and a number of people had now started paying attention to Callen's slightly off beat rant.

'No one knows, unless the Feds are keeping it to themselves,' Larry replied. 'I get where you're coming from, I sure do.'

'No, Feds won't tell, they're just a branch of the government. I want to find these people and shake them by the hand. Someone needs to show these bastards that it's time we stopped sitting on our asses and told them they need to repair our country. And start caring, start caring about you about me and all these people...' Callen tailed off and glanced up. Realising he had an audience that were now entranced in his words, he pushed his untouched chilli to one side. Knocking the bowl over he stood and looked around him. His eyes widened in fright as he realised he had spoken words which many people agreed. 'Now's the time, I can feel it.'

Callen pushed through the small crowd and drifted down the side road, barely allowing himself time to reflect on whether he had put on a believable performance before he emerged on the boardwalk. It was already time for act two.


	10. Chapter 10

Callen had carefully observed the pecking order amongst the destitute habitants of Venice during the afternoon and early evening. He studied which people claimed which spots and who had the most - and the least - amount of possessions. Having lived frugally all his life he was constantly astounded by the belongings that some managed to accumulate while on the streets. He equated it with Kensi's mess and her need to collect stuff, the need to compensate for what was lacking in other areas of their lives. Callen was mostly interested in those that would match him in a fight - he had to survive unscathed for long enough to be a nuisance, to be recognised and hopefully arrested. That would be the icing on the cake, provided he was only to spend one night in a cell. Callen glanced around him, convinced that one of his team was somewhere nearby in overwatch, keeping a close eye on his antics in case things went south. He smiled grimly and turned up the collar of his scruffy jacket. Well, things were about to now, he thought.

Callen marched up to a man of about his own age, reached down and dragged him out of his make shift camp, throwing him on to the boardwalk several metres away.

'I've been watching you all day.' He shouted to the stranger in anger. 'And I've seen you stealing money from her. She has nothing and you wanna make sure she has even less. You're a low life piece of scum - you need to move house.'

Callen pointed towards two pitches on small grass verge that ran between the beach and the path. The noises from the throng of nearby people and street entertainers suddenly became muted and the night's atmosphere developed a chill. Passersby instinctively backed away from the two men who were now tentatively circling each other as though in a boxing ring.

'I don't steal no money.' The man gestured, appealing to anyone who would listen that he was innocent. 'You're fucking psycho, man. Ain't ever seen y'here neither.'

Callen took a step forward, prodding his finger firmly in to the vagrant's chest. 'You took fifty bucks from her earlier. I sat over there and watched. Give it back before I make you.'

Callen's victim looked confused. 'I ain't got no fifty bucks. You bat-shit crazy mother-'

'If you don't have no fifty bucks, then let her search your pockets,' Callen interrupted. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a mother and young child exit a nearby cafe. They quickly walked in the opposite direction, away from the danger zone.

The girl Callen was referring to was named Jessica and she stood up shakily, pulling her dirty beany hat further down her head and smoothing her lank, dark hair. She stepped forward in curiosity. She knew she only had a few dollars on her, tucked inside her bra. She'd never had that much money and she shoved her hands in her pockets, eyes darting between Callen and Luka, the accused. She had known Luka for a few weeks and had quickly decided she could only trust him not to try anything on with her. She didn't think he was gay, just not interested in sex . She had witnessed him lifting already stolen food from a fellow vagrant a few nights ago and she could really do with fifty dollars. If Luka did have that much money, well she could claim it was hers and hope this new, intense stranger would not ask her to repay it in kind. There was a tense silence as she walked forward and then stopped short of the two men.

'I wanna but, no way man. He could have anythin' in his pockets, like needles or somethin'. I ain't catching HIV.' Jessica narrowed her eyes and stared defiantly at Callen who was almost daring her to continue. 'But I'm missing money,' she lied. 'And I want it back. You get it for me.'

Callen smiled slowly and calculatingly. 'I could do that...'

'No!' Luka shouted. 'I know your game. You're gonna plant that money on me and then say you found it. Just coz I live on the streets don't mean I'm stoopid.'

'Yes you are stupid. Turn out your own pockets then so we can all see what a dumb-ass liar you are.'

'Fuck you,' Luka backed away from Callen and Jessica.

Judging he was a safe distance away Luka broke in to a run, not stopping to look behind him. Callen swore under his breath and gave chase, catching him quickly and tackling him to the ground. Rolling Luka over so he was on his back, Callen sat on top of him and sent a couple of punches to his face to stop his victim from struggling so much. He patted down Luka's pockets, mindful of any stray needles. Not feeling anything of concern and knowing he had planted the money in the shirt pocket, Callen pushed open Luka's jacket and beckoned to Jessica, who approached him tentatively.

'See that?' Callen pointed to the shirt pocket where the bulge of notes was clear. 'I didn't put that there or you'd have seen, yeah? So that means it's yours.'

Luka started struggling and swearing, causing Callen to almost lose his grip. He shook his head imperceptibly and opening his palm, sharply slapped Luka's left cheek. Jessica darted forwards and deftly removed the notes, withdrawing her hand and quickly moving back to the safety of the crowd. She refrained from counting the money in case someone had any ideas about relieving her of the notes.

Callen stood up and tapped his boot in to Luka's side. 'You need to leave. You're a dirty thief and I'm taking your pitch. How can we live here if we can't even trust our own?'

'You planted that money.' Luka moved animatedly, clenching and unclenching the fists of both hands. 'That's my stuff. You can't steal my stuff. And you don't even live here.'

Callen stood his ground, a cruel smile spreading across his face. 'I do now.'

The smile caused Luka to snap and he suddenly sprang to his feet and moved at speed, knocking Callen to the ground and landing an extremely hard punch to the side of his jaw. Callen instantly tasted blood and closed his eyes, waiting for the next blow. Another punch connected with his cheek and he inhaled deeply, forcing the pain to the back of his mind and reacting in the pause between his assailant's blows. Callen moved his hands to either side of Luka's collar and grasped it tightly, pulling the man towards him and trying not to recoil from the foul odour of rotting teeth. He lifted his face and smacked his forehead against Luka's, using the momentum to roll over so he was on top. Raising his right arm and clenching his fist tight, he rained down three blows in quick succession, leaving Luka stunned.

Callen wiped blood away from his lip, leaving a small red mark on the sleeve of his jacket and surveyed his handiwork. He wasn't sure if this was quite going to plan and his doubts were answered when he was roughly hauled away from Luka's prone form and pushed to the ground. Callen leaped up and charged at his new assailant just as he heard sirens, the slamming of brakes and warnings shouted by local police department. Ignoring them, Callen swung wildly, making sure his actions meant the police would want him off the streets that night. His ploy was rewarded and he was grabbed from behind and forced on to his knees and then face first on to the ground, his arms pinned painfully behind his back.

'You're under arrest for assault. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney and as I doubt you can afford one, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand?'

Callen felt the skin on his wrists pinch as the officer over-tightened the handcuffs.

'Jesus, Luka, you OK?' One of the officers had released his grip on Callen and moved to the man lying bloody on the ground.

'That psycho bitch just attacked me.' Luka pointed to Callen as he was helped in to a sitting position. He raised his hand to his head, dabbing at the wet blood on his face and examining his fingers. 'Accused me of stealin' from Jessica.'

'I saw you.' Callen raged, straining against the handcuffs.

The LAPD officer turned back to face Callen. 'Guess you're waiving your right to remain silent. Now stay still. I don't know who you are but Luka's lived here for years and has never stolen from his neighbours. Or been in a fight.'

'Luck fuck - he giving you free hand jobs or something?' Callen hurled abuse at the officer who shook his head in disgust and marched back to stand over Callen.

'You've got some mouth on you. Now shut it.' He hauled Callen to his feet and prodded him roughly in the shoulder. 'Mark, get a medic down here to check Luka out. And you? Where the hell did you spring from? You're not a regular face. What's your name?'

'Clint Eastwood.' Callen answered defiantly. 'Food truck guys know me. And I saw Luka steal that money. It's not right. We got nothing so we can't steal from each other.'

'OK, OK.' The officer replied, realising he had to calm down himself, Luka and his prisoner. 'You're spending the night in the cells and tomorrow you can be on your way. But I don't wanna see you back in Venice.'

The officer led Callen away from Luka and large crowd that had gathered. He could see several familiar faces from earlier, including an extremely concerned Larry who stood with his hand over his mouth in surprise. Callen briefly made eye contact and then cast his eyes downwards. Overall he thought, day one of his undercover mission hadn't gone too badly and he had even been rewarded with a bed for the night. The next day though, would bring new challenges.

Kensi leaned against the wall of a souvenir shop and held her cell to her ear, quietly providing an update to the team back in the ops centre. She was pretty sure Callen realised at least one of the team was tracking him and Kensi had been chosen to blend in with the hippy chicks of Venice. Although Nell and Eric ensured Callen's backstopping was meticulous, there was a slight issue when it came to him being arrested. Callen was known to some police officers as a federal agent and had also been arrested a few years earlier for the 'murder' of Janvier. There was a distinct risk Callen could be recognised and earlier Deeks had made some tentative calls to LAPD, warning them Callen was undercover. Now he had to rely on Hetty's influence to ensure his cover remained intact. People talk, and rumour and gossip could keep a boring night shift from dragging. Hetty had pulled some strings and managed to get a few trusted officers to handle Callen's arrest and booking in. Kensi watched as Callen was bundled in to the back of the police cruiser and driven away. She spoke softly in to her cell and hung up, giving a final glance to the remains of the chaos Callen had caused. The medics were now checking out Luka, and Jessica - with her fifty bucks - was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

Callen's night in the cells was uneventful. Hetty's trusted officers made sure no trouble makers were placed close to Callen, and he kept himself to himself. He could not continue with his undercover mission if he was in hospital or locked up for another night. The next day he was released with a warning to stay away from Venice Beach and the surrounding areas. Callen had grunted in agreement. His next target was further inland - the Sanctuary Outreach Centre - and a date with Frederick Patten. The morning was bright and Callen emerged from the dingy hallway, squinting and almost stumbling down the steps. He glanced up and down the street, deciding to turn left towards downtown Los Angeles. The police officers had not searched him well enough and had missed the money hidden in his socks. Callen reckoned he still had around three hundred dollars which he would keep for an emergency or maybe spent a few dollars on a bus ride. The walk from Pacific Police Station to downtown would take him at least four and a half hours and was not something he was particularly looking forward to.

Taking his time, Callen took over six hours to arrive downtown. He had taken side roads and back alleys, stopping at a few rough looking coffee shops along the way. By early afternoon the skies had uncharacteristically darkened and the first spots of rain landed on the sidewalks. Callen quickly headed away from the side roads towards Venice Boulevard. Turning up the collar of his jacket, he stuck out his thumb and hoped someone would stop to offer him a lift. Lady luck was not on his side. No one stopped and within minutes he was soaked from the sudden storm. The pelting rain stung his face and water literally ran down the back of his neck in to his clothes. Puddles quickly gathered on the sidewalk and Callen was thankful his boots were not so worn that they leaked. Before he could reach the nearest bus stop, he realised he did not want to get any wetter and rather than sit in soaking clothes, Callen backtracked to a derelict shop he'd passed a few minutes earlier. He would hole up there and change in to his only other clothes. He was pretty sure his rucksack was not waterproof, but other set of jeans, t-shirt and jumper had to be drier that his current outfit. After a forty minute respite during which the rain ceased, Callen continued his journey and arrived at his destination late in the afternoon.

The Sanctuary Outreach Centre was located on the corner plot of a rundown residential side road just off the main strip. The day centre was in a low slung building, recently renovated. It housed a large lounge and dining area, with a kitchen and a small office to the rear. At the front was a reception area which was manned twenty-four-seven. The centre wanted their patrons to feel safe, and firmly turned away anyone they felt to be drunk or high or violent. Next door was a large two storey house which stood out as an anomaly amongst the neighbouring single storey dwellings. The main office was in the front downstairs room and the remainder of the house had been converted in to shared bedrooms and small bathrooms. In total, a maximum of twenty five adults could be housed on a discretionary first come first served basis, with no one allowed to stay more than seven consecutive days and no return stay within the month.

Thanks to the wonder twin's research Callen knew that no beds were allocated before six in the evening. He had at least an hour to wait in the day centre and once again he began to sell his alias as the real deal. He was greeted at the reception by a man he recognised as Frederick Patten. He gave the bare minimum of information on his alias Rob Gladstone and registered his interest in needing a bed for a few nights. Hoping it would stand him in good stead, he also slipped in the fact his only spare clothes were soaked from earlier although he wasn't sure a sob story from a man in his forties would actually work. There were plenty of activities to keep him occupied until the clock ticked round to six but that was only if Callen wanted to be sociable. And he did not want to be sociable. It certainly wasn't in the nature of his alias and so he killed time by grabbing a meal at the shelter and kept to himself.

During his earlier stop he had contacted Ops and requested Deeks pay a street kid to loiter around the Sanctuary and tell stories about how the previous night a man that matched his description spouted off against the Government and stood up for a young girl at Venice Beach. A few times he caught Patten staring at him and he figured the kid had done his job well. Callen hoped the money Deeks had paid him wouldn't be wasted on drink or drugs. It was a risk that had to be taken. At just before six, Frederick Patten finally approached Callen.

'Hey, I spoke to you when you arrived, I'm Freddie. We've got a spare bed in a shared room if you're interested?'

'Sure.'

'Great, grab your stuff and follow me.' Freddie waited for Callen to pick up his rucksack and his still wet jacket. 'All rooms are in the house next door. You'll be sharing with three other men and the room has a separate shower, toilet and basin. Maximum stay is one week.'

'Thanks.'

'Y'know, some kid was here earlier and said he recognised you from something that went down in Venice last night...'

Callen stopped in his tracks and held Freddie's stare before he looked away. 'I won't cause any trouble here - I just need somewhere to stay. Sort my head out.'

'Not what I meant - the kid reckoned you were angry about the Government and then fought some stranger who'd stolen money from a homeless girl?'

'I served my country since I got- since I was twenty - and now look at me. So yeah their lack of support makes me angry sometimes. Doesn't mean I'm a trouble maker or that I don't have principles.'

'I understand. We don't get too many Vets through here but when we do it's the same story. I have connections at shelters all over California and it's clear that something is wrong.'

Callen barked out a short laugh. 'Something is wrong? Too damn right! The whole policy needs to change. The Government, the military, someone must to be forced to listen and then make the changes needed. You talk to people on the streets, it's not just people like me who're affected. There's no help for evicted families when they can't afford mortgage payments. No support for kids kicked out of the foster system at eighteen or when you're released from prison...'

Callen allowed his mini rant to tail off. He looked in to the distance again, shaking his head and sighing. He knew the short falls of the system first hand and for a number of years had shared the angry sentiments of his alias. Hetty was playing a canny game, Callen thought wryly.

Freddie studied Callen and recognised the passion, anger and resentment that was evident in his words and reflected in his eyes. He may have been referring to generic situations but Freddie instinctively knew the man next to him was speaking from personal experience about the child welfare state and the military. He thought about mentioning they had a counsellor on hand every afternoon for those who wanted to talk or vent in a confidential environment but changed his mind. Rob came across as a very strong willed individual who had built walls around himself a long time ago. The offer of any kind of therapy would most likely have an adverse effect. Instead Freddie made a mental note to call Anton DuValle later that evening and invite him down to the Sanctuary. It had been a while since he had encountered anyone that might be interested in DuValle and Lyneham's movement and he had a gut feeling they would agree with his assessment.

* * *

Callen slept lightly that night. His rooming companions were an elderly man who snored loudly and two men around his age. They were all amenable enough, politely introducing themselves by first name only but it was the elderly man - Jon - who continued to talk. Generally there was an air of unspoken mistrust and Callen slept fully clothed, using his still damp rucksack as a pillow, an action mirrored by the others.

The rooms were available to the inhabitants for the next week but if an individual did not confirm it was still required by three that afternoon, any remaining belongings were collected and left with reception. If they were still there the following day, the baggage was moved to a storage area for one month before being permanently disposed. It was a rule the shelter found worked well as should any belongings be required as police evidence in a crime, it was readily available but for a limited time. Callen confirmed his requirement shortly after he woke at dawn. Gathering his rucksack, he sat on the steps outside the house and wondered how to fill his time until the day centre opened for food at seven. He gazed at the clear blue morning sky, his eyes following a flock of gulls flying in formation towards the coast. He absentmindedly moved the sleeve of his jacket until he remembered he no longer wore a watch, and swore silently to himself. The bed had served a purpose and he had slept fairly well, considering. But returning to that room with the other inhabitants slowly awakening did not appeal and Callen hoped he would have new company that evening. He leaned back and closed his eyes, stretching his legs out and basking in the warmth of the early morning sun which gradually gained in strength.

'Early riser or just couldn't sleep?'

A voice jolted Callen out of his dream like state and he cursed loudly at having been caught unaware. He looked up to see Frederick Patten smiling at him. Callen allowed the corners of his mouth to twitch slightly, not wanting to appear too friendly or too hostile.

'Never been much of a sleeper and that is one noisy old bastard you put me with. Talks non-stop when he's awake and snores non-stop when he's asleep.'

'That's ol' Jon for you. This is his seventh night so if you're here for a week, you're in luck. You'll have a new companion tonight. Jon's harmless -can't say the same for all we get here though.'

Patten's smile dropped a touch.

Callen shrugged and mumbled, looking down at his hands as he spoke. 'Venice - I just needed to let off steam. Been a while, y'know. I won't cause any trouble here.'

'Sure. Look, breakfast won't be ready for at least an hour. There's a cafe already open a few blocks from here, just on the main strip - truckers stop. Let me buy you a coffee and some bacon.'

'No, I'll wait like everyone else.'

'Look it's not charity. You remind me of a friend of mine. He's ex-Marine, runs a small commune in the country for vets like you who need a bit of time to gather themselves. I might be able to help you out with something more stimulating that this joint.'

'This is a damn site better than some places I've stayed.'

'Hey, no pressure man. Join me for coffee - you'll still have your bed here and all the food and stuff from the day centre. Got nothing to lose...'

Callen fell silent. The offer had come round soon. Maybe too soon for his liking and he was suspicious of Patten. Ok, it was paranoia. Paranoid he had played his hand too soon and he had been found out. Callen reviewed the previous day's conversations, trying to pinpoint something he had said, anything that might have flagged to Patten that he was not really destitute and troubled. He could think of nothing.

'OK.'

The walk to the cafe took ten minutes, longer than expected for something that was only meant to be a few blocks away. The conversation was rather one sided with Patten talking inanely about any subject that sprung to mind. Callen responded with the odd grunt which seemed enough to satisfy Patten. The cafe was set back from the road on a parade that contained a pharmacy with its shutters closed tight and a video stop that was either open early or just never closed. A quick look told Callen all he needed to know and he made a mental note to have LAPD look into illegal porn and prostitution when his assignment was over. The cafe itself was dingy despite the light of the morning. Grease was ingrained in the floor, causing Callen's boots to stick and squeak slightly as he followed Patten to a table at the rear.

'Freddie, where the hell have you been hiding? Been a while!'

A tall dark haired man stood to greet Patten, offering his hand and pulling Patten in to a bear hug.

'I'm good, I'm good.' Some of Patten's confidence seemed to drain away in the presence of the man Callen recognised as Anton DuValle. 'Ant, I want you to meet Rob. He arrived at the Sanctuary last night and I thought you might have something in common.'

Anton stood his ground, not making a move towards Callen who mirrored the action. Anton appraised the man in front of him. He saw a tired man in his forties, with hard eyes that told a story of a life full of fights for survival, a man that did not trust easily. He had a demeanour that said he was military and met every fight and challenge head on. There was also an edgy and dangerous air that Anton recognised from many of the others Patten had brought before him.

Anton held out his hand. 'Anton DuValle. Please, sit. Coffee?'

Callen shook Anton's hand, fully aware of the thoughts running through Anton's mind as Callen performed the same analysis on him. He may have read Anton's file but even just being with this man filled him with revolt. Anton DuValle was a man who had abused women and never been prosecuted as those same women had either withdrawn their statements or disappeared. Many of the cases had taken place during leave on foreign shores and the only accusations which had stuck were those of insubordination, violence and drugs. It had been enough to get DuValle dishonourably discharged, but not locked up. He was a dangerous and repulsive man.

A steaming mug of coffee was placed in front of Callen and despite the warmth of the morning he placed his hands around the mug and suppressed a chill.

'You good?' Patten asked, observing the change in body language.

Callen nodded.

'Freddie here says you're ex-military?'

Callen nodded again, his eyes darting between Patten and DuValle in suspicion.

'Look I know you've only just met me but I've been where you are. I got shot in the shoulder in Kabul and injured out of the Marines. Discharged with PTSD and no one to help me. My mom died when I was on tour so I had no one and nowhere to go. Ended up living from day to day, sleeping in doorways and shelters, begging for food and money until I bumped into Joshua Lyneham. We had served together for a few years and was injured out long before me. He now runs a ranch in the Angeles National Forest. Disused land that he turned around with his bare hands and he was looking for others like him to help. I went just to get a bed for the night and two years later - here I am. There's no shrinks or other crap like that-' Patten paused as he observed a slight grin from Callen. 'It's just fresh air, building, using your hands, some hunting...Patten says you remind him of Josh - and that's a compliment, believe me. Reckons you're in a bit of a bad place at the moment. Had some trouble with the law an' all.'

DuValle finished his speech and leaned back in his chair as though waiting for Callen to eagerly respond to his words.

Callen stared at his coffee, watching the steam swirl and dissipate. 'I can't answer when you haven't asked me anything...'

'You were arrested the other night for bad mouthing the Government.'

Callen gave a short laugh. 'No, I expressed my opinion and some people overheard. Got arrested later for fighting some low life scum who stole money off a street kid.'

DuValle nodded in understanding. 'A man with morals, I like that. Look, I'm travelling up tonight. Come with me, spend a day or two at the ranch, away from the crap and chaos of LA and make up your own mind. We're a community of people with the same outlook as you. I'll be around the Sanctuary all day today so just let me or Patten know if you wanna come.'

'I don't think I'm what you're looking for. I don't normally share my opinions or company with others.'

'There are no expectations of anyone, no pressure.' Freddie Patten said. 'As Ant said, think it over and if nothing else use it as a break for a few days. Guaranteed your own room - no stinky old men who snore or guys that will steal your belongings the moment your back is turned.'

'Maybe.' Callen responded. He looked at the two men and stood. 'Gotta go'.

Callen grabbed his rucksack and turned his back on the two men, pausing before taking a decisive step towards the door. The coffee had been surprisingly good but he needed time alone to call in to Ops. With things moving quicker than anticipated, he needed Deeks to make his entrance by early afternoon to allow enough time for him to orchestrate an invite to the ranch for his new partner.


	11. Chapter 11

The Ops centre was eerily quiet. Nell and Eric were both in early, scanning through chatter received during the night, specifically searching for anything connected to domestic terrorism centred in Los Angeles. Hetty had arrived even earlier and remained at her desk, sipping tea from a fine bone china set. The rest of the building was empty. The sudden sound of Callen's voice through their ear pieces made Eric jump, and even Nell looked surprised.

'Callen, what are you doing up so early?' Eric stole a quick glance at his watch and saw they had only been in for thirty minutes.

'It's pretty hard to sleep when some old man is snoring and you think your other two roommates will steal from you the moment your eyes close.'

Eric tilted his head to one side, briefly considering the scenario.

'Hmm, yeah, I get your point. And what can we do for you on this fine morning?'

'Stop being so cheery would be a start.'

'Oh, OK. What's up?'

'Patten's just introduced me to DuValle. They've invited me to the ranch, leaving tonight. Is Nell there? I need to know what she can recall from the other night.'

'Hey Callen,' Nell said. 'The site is huge, I was lucky to find it in the dark. The outskirts of the land -the old fields - has all been left to nature. I had some close encounters with a few cows and goats. As you get closer to the ranch there are a number of outbuildings, some are old barns which look beyond repair but quite a few of the others are being renovated. There's stables for maybe twenty horses - I was given a tour of the property in the morning. From my arrival through the fields, the security lights only flashed on when I was about fifty metres from the ranch itself.'

'Are there any other external alarms or security systems?'

'Not that I could tell and Eric hasn't been able to find anything to say otherwise. They're not paranoid - certainly not on the outside. I mean they were nice and friendly to a lost backpacker...'

'What about the interior of the barns, stables, outbuildings, the ranch?'

'I wasn't able to access any of the barns or outbuildings. The stables are definitely for horses but I could only see inside two of themes. One set of stables has been converted in to small apartments. The main ranch is very large. Again I was pretty limited in my access. The kitchen is big, farmhouse style with the usual appliances, dining tables, dressers. The lounge is homey, lots of sofas, bean bags, cushions. In the morning it was a real community area where everyone gathered, all very casual and relaxed.'

'What about Lyneham? Was there any hostility, suspicious activities, places they refused to show you?'

'Umm, no, it all seemed pretty cool. The men mostly looked ex-military, tough but genuinely friendly - to me at least. There are a few families with kids, they all seemed happy. I checked that Lizzie's son Tyler was fine. He was running around without a care in the world. There were only one or two that weren't real friendly. Look out for a tall brunette. I recognised her from the Homeland photos and she was introduced as Ariel. She's close with Lyneham and I got the feeling she's more than she seems. If I didn't know better, I'd have thought they were exactly as they've been selling themselves; a peaceful oasis for people who've fallen on bad times and need some space to recover.'

'Callen,' Eric said. 'I searched through old newspaper articles relating to that area and back in the early sixties there were rumours of an underground bunker being built in case of a nuclear war or Russian invasion. I can't find any evidence that confirms it was actually built and if it was, if it's still there, but thought you might want to know.'

'Thanks Eric. Can you get hold of Deeks? He needs to show up at the shelter so I can work him into getting an invite to the ranch.'

'Sure thing.' Eric said.

'And remind him that he's not going under as Artie. If he turns up in that homeless jacket I'll kick his ass outta here and claim he's mad. If he wants in on this undercover op then he plays it as we discussed.'

'Hearing you loud and clear.'

'Deeks knows his role, he'll be fine.' Nell reassured him.

'And brief Hetty. It'll probably be difficult for me to check in once I'm on the property. If it looks like they're becoming suspicious, I'll ditch my comms but try and keep the tracker on me.'

'Understood. Stay safe.'

Nell signed off and smiled at Eric. 'I'll go brief Hetty. You'd better call Deeks and get him in here.'

'Bet he's sleeping or surfing.' Eric replied with a small shake of the head, thinking that he would much rather be doing either activity at six thirty in the morning.

* * *

Deeks walked along the sidewalk and resisted the temptation to stop and shake the sand out of his sneakers. Goddamn, he thought, stopping abruptly. Using the toe of his left foot his slid the right sneaker from his heel, crouched down and poured out half a cup of sand. He wouldn't have minded so much if he'd actually been on the beach for pleasure, but no, Hetty had insisted that Deeks cement his undercover alias by visiting Venice Beach and showing random people photos of his foster brother, Rob Gladstone. His photo of Callen was about nine years old and Deeks had studied the likeness out of sheer curiosity. Hetty had declined to comment on its source but there was a possibility it had been prepared for a previous alias, either that or someone had caught Callen on an extremely bad day. He had his trademark buzz cut but he looked gaunt, pale and haunted. It was an interesting combination and Deeks thought back to when he first encountered the team eight years ago. It was his second to last undercover assignment for LAPD that brought him into contact with the Special Operations team of NCIS and he was certain the photo of Callen was from at least six months prior to that. Maybe it was from around the time he was shot? Deeks thought it would be highly entertaining to make a point of showing Callen and putting him on the back foot, nothing like a spot of improvisation when it was least expected.

Despite being an old photo, the likeness to present day Callen was clear, mainly in the intensity of his blue eyes and his desire to never be clean shaven. Deeks had no shortage of people in Venice stating they remembered him from a few nights ago. Kensi had not been exaggerating when she relayed the events back to Ops, which had made the feed from the security cameras all the more worrying. Deeks eventually found a police officer - one he did not recognise - and struck gold, legitimately finding details of which precinct Callen had spent the night. Using the spare change in his pockets, Deeks took the bus to downtown and repeated his search, this time at various hostels and shelters for the homeless. It was early afternoon by the time he reached The Sanctuary Outreach Centre and he wearily approached the reception desk, dumping his hold all bag on the floor with an exaggerated sigh. The man on duty was in his twenties with dyed red hair and piercings in his nose, eyebrow and ears.

'What's up man?' Deeks greeted the man with a smile.

'Hey, I'm Brett, not seen you here before. What's your name?' Brett tapped a pencil against the side of the table.

'No, I've not been here before. Not to this place. 'Bout a year ago I crashed in a place about two miles down the road though. I'm Billy.'

'This place is pretty cool. Got food, drinks and bathrooms inside. Just gotta say no drink or drugs. We close up 'bout eight, if you wanna bed you gotta let me know by five, beds confirmed by six.'

'Sure man. A bed for the night would be good, I'll move on in the morning. I'm looking for my brother, been trying to find him for a while. I know he's passing through. Have you seen him?'

Brett squinted in confusion. 'Dunno.'

'Oh, this might help. Take a look.' Deeks hurriedly removed the photo from the ripped back pocket of his faded jeans and held it in front of Brett.

'Sure, he stayed last night. Not seen him since. Might've gone.'

'Ah,' Deeks looked dejected and glanced inside the shelter's day centre.

'You still want that bed?'

'Yeah man.'

'Cool. Chill, get food n' stuff. Let y'know 'bout the bed.' Brett dismissed Deeks and returned to tapping a drum beat with his pencil.

Deeks nodded, picked up his bag and sniffed the air. A meaty smell that reminded him of high school lunchtimes set his stomach rumbling and he realised his last meal was an early breakfast shortly after Eric had woken him. He wouldn't have said the aroma was particularly appetising but he'd always found that hunger pangs caused him to eat pretty much anything. Deeks started towards the interior of the day centre, cautiously glancing around him and nodding as he caught the eyes of several men and women. Smiling to himself, he was secretly pleased that he had managed to fit Artie in to his bag, although he left the bad teeth at home. Avoiding the hot food, Deeks grabbed a few sandwiches and a steaming mug of coffee and sat down at a table occupied by a man who could easily have been Artie's twin brother. He struck up an easy conversation that would have sounded like madness to any casual observer but made perfect sense to him and Jim, his new companion. The minutes wound their way into hours and by the time the clock turned five, he had spoken at length to every person who had passed through the doors of The Sanctuary since his arrival, including volunteers. The conversations helped inform him of the reasons why homelessness was such an issue and Deeks took onboard everything he could glean. If nothing else it would help make Artie more believable for future undercover operations. For now though, he was already processing tiny pieces of detail and working them into his current legend. In a rare moment of silence Deeks was deep in thought, leaning forward and brushing his long, dirty blonde hair away from his eyes when he felt a vicious kick to his legs. The buzzing hum of the centre ceased with the sudden and unprovoked attack. None of the room's inhabitants had survived without honing their senses to impending danger and with a wariness, they watched cautiously as Deeks jumped to his feet and squared up to his assailant. Standing in front of him was Callen. There was no welcoming smile or bear hug and Deeks hesitated, allowing Callen to lead so he could follow.

'What are you doing here Billy? You been following me?' Callen's voice was hard, not the acknowledgement Deeks had been expecting.

'No, Rob! Well yes, sorta.' Deeks broke eye contact and stared at the floor before looking up at Callen again with a rue smile. 'Guilty as charged.'

Deeks' words and demeanour broke the ice and Callen visibly relaxed, matching Deeks' smile with a smirk of his own. The temperature in the room increased by a few degrees and interest was quickly lost in the two men. Frederick Patten was back to manning reception and had tracked Callen's movements through the centre. DuValle had requested he monitor his movements and advised Patten of his research in to Rob Gladstone. He had liked what he had found; a steady rise through the ranks and heavily redacted black ops reports. His attitude towards authority and a tendency to work outside the usual boundaries was a bonus. Witnessing the hostile kick on a new patron, Patten had left his post and loitered to either break up a fight or eavesdrop.

'Why you following me? I thought you'd sorted yourself out?' Callen asked.

'Long story. Sit down, I'll tell y'all about it.' Deeks gestured to the empty chair next to his. Without waiting for Callen's agreement he sat down.

'I'm not sure I really want to know.' Callen said, taking Deeks up on his offer and joined him. 'What's the short version - the last three years in three sentences?'

'Really? Um, well after um...y'know that girl I was with, last time I saw you? We got hitched, she kicked me out, I lost my job...'

'Again?'

'Again.' Deeks sighed. 'She divorced me and I, um, just drifted man. Hit Venice earlier and thought of you. From what I heard, sounds like you hit Venice. What've you been doing?'

'This and that,' Callen said vaguely.

'Like what? Causing fights and getting arrested? Spouting hate against the Government. You'll get yourself flagged on some commie anti-American database and shipped off to Guantanamo Bay.'

'Don't be stupid. And I'm doing better than you.'

'Sure brother, that's why we're both here.'

The pair fell in to an easy silence, observing their surroundings. Both men had been aware of Patten's presence and tailored their conversation to his ear. Callen's invite to the ranch was secured and Deeks had just cemented Callen's alias. All they had managed to establish for Deeks was a friendly connection to Callen so they had to move quickly if they were to persuade Patten and DuValle that Deeks should go too. Callen decided to push forward without delay.

'Hey, Freddie.' He called to Patten who was listening to an elderly woman, without hearing a word she was saying.

'You good there Rob?' Patten replied, eagerly walking over to where Callen was sitting.

'Yeah, want you to meet Billy.'

Patten held out his hand to Deeks who shook it with a friendly smile.

'Hey Freddie. I'm Rob's brother. He doesn't like to admit it, thinks I shame the family name.'

Callen shook his head and raised his eyebrows in frustration. 'We don't share a family name and we're not related. Well, not by blood..'

'Ok ok. You can tell how much he just loves to talk, about everything. We're foster brothers. We were placed with the same families three times. I'm pretty sure Rob cried every time they tried to move one of us on without the other.'

'Stop being a dick.' Callen smiled and turned to Freddie Patten. 'He had a tough time as a kid so I looked out for him. Turns out I could be quite persuasive when I wanted so it was easier for social services to place us together. It worked out ok for a few years.'

'Trouble was there was no one to look out for him,' Deeks continued seamlessly.

'Billy...'

'I know. Now we just seem to find each other when we need help. He keeps me on the straight and narrow and I calm him down, stop him getting in to serious trouble. Partners, right brother?'

'So is that why you're here now?' Patten asked Deeks before Callen could reply.

'Guess so. I was down at the beach, Venice. Rob used to hang there all the time as a kid. And I last bumped in to him about three years ago. Seems we're both drawn to the ocean even though he can't surf for shit. Anyways, thought I'd ask if he'd been around. Turns out his temper's gotten him in to trouble again.'

'Billy...It wasn't my fault.' Callen warned again.

'Aren't you old enough to take responsibility?' Deeks challenged Callen's childish response.

'If it was my fault I would say so.' Callen protested. 'And what about you? Still bumming around?'

'Just a rough patch, that's all.' Deeks said lightly.

'You're whole life's been a rough patch.'

'Yeah, thanks for that brother.

'You know it.' Callen shook his head.

'So what now? They said I can probably stay here a few days. I've missed you man.'

Callen looked up sharply and caught Patten's eye. He could see nothing in Patten's face which screamed at him that the invitation to the ranch was a secret.

'Patten and his pal invited me to some ranch in the national park. I'm leaving tonight for a few days to see what it's like. If it's good I might stay a while.'

'Oh.' Deeks was visibly crest fallen, as though his whole being suddenly had the air sucked from it. 'I thought I could stay here and help you and then you can help me, like the good old times.' Deeks picked up his bag and stood up. 'That's cool. Guess it's just been too long. I'll see you around Rob.'

'Billy...' Callen called after Deeks half heartedly but did not get up to follow. Instead he remained in his chair, his head in his hands.

Deeks walked away from Callen, leaving the day centre behind and with certain knowledge that either Callen or Patten would eventually come after him. He decided to cross the street and squatted next to some over flowing trash cans, trying not to breath in too deeply.

'So you're not really that close?' Patten said to Callen. 'Look, DuValle will be hear in about twenty minutes. You should get your stuff together.'

'What? Yes. No. I should go after him.' Callen stood up and hesitated, allowing Patten enough time to consider his options. Should he decide not to suggest Deeks accompany them, then he would have to engage those persuasive skills he had alluded to earlier.

Patten had closely observed the behaviour between the two men and could tell they were close, even though their words could be interpreted by some as harsh. The difference he saw in Rob, Callen's undercover alias was intriguing. His had lowered his defences and there was a glimpse of a personality which contradicted that of a man tightly in control of his emotions. Patten was now conflicted. He knew DuValle wanted a man on the edge, a man who would be willing to cause damage to Government buildings and maybe even people and have no regrets. If he invited Rob's foster brother Billy, the game could change. Patten took a beat and then thought about how people like Rob changed during stays at the ranch anyway. They usually settled within a few days and the outdoor, wholesome and relaxed lifestyle allowed many to forget their problems, even if only for a short while. There were plenty of men and women at the ranch with backgrounds similar to both Rob and Billy's and work could be found for both of them. And if one or the other didn't fit it, then they would be told to leave. It was a gamble he thought would pay off.

'He's your brother, of course you should go after him. I'll speak with DuValle and tell him he'll be collecting both of you.'

'Thanks Freddie. I owe you big time.' Callen slapped Patten on the shoulder in appreciation and headed out after Deeks, spotting him quickly on the opposite side of the street.

'Well?' Deeks asked, still squatting on his haunches.

'It's all good. You're in too. We leave in twenty.'

'Ah, excellent.' Getting up, Deeks stretched his back out and stood tall. 'But I meant 'well' as in what was that kick all about in there? I thought you were gonna deck me.'

Callen grinned. 'I watched you for about ten minutes. You were totally silent and the kick was to make sure you weren't dead. Anyway, made it more fun.'

'You're idea of fun and my idea of fun are two totally different things.'

'Good. Let's head back, I need to make sure no one's stolen my stuff in the last two minutes.'

'You left your bag in there?'

'It's only stuff,' Callen shrugged. 'All my money is in my socks and shoes.'

Deeks pulled a face in revolt. 'Ok, just don't give me any money. Like ever.'

'Why would I give you my money?'

Callen looked genuinely puzzled and Deeks tilted his head slightly to one side. Was his new partner having him on? There was no sign of any twinkle in Callen's eye and Deeks raised his eyebrows in sudden understanding.

'What? You really are being serious. Is this what you're like with Sam? No! Don't even answer that.' Deeks walked across the road leaving Callen staring after him with a confused look on his face.


	12. Chapter 12

The drive to the ranch was relaxing once the traffic of downtown and central Los Angeles had been navigated. Anton DuValle was the perfect gentleman to Callen and his so-called foster brother, Deeks. He asked no questions of their backgrounds or current circumstances and instead charmed the pair with tales of how he and Josh Lyneham had painstakingly renovated the ranch, gradually reaching out to fellow veterans who had struggled to adapt to civilian life and eventually, to anyone they felt they could help. Callen and Deeks had shared a few unspoken moments during the journey as DuValle was certainly ticking all the boxes when it came to being a good Samaritan. Even though both agents were familiar with his dubious military record, the fact that he was a charismatic con artist was clearly missing. Deeks interacted the most with DuValle, engaging in conversations ranging from the history of Los Angeles to politics. He kept the tone light hearted and only voiced a slight bitterness at his opinion of the social welfare state. Callen remained silent for the most part. Occasionally he dipped in with a sarcastic comment that was accompanied with a wry smile, trying not to put too much of a dampener on the mood. It almost meant he could downplay his alias's true feelings yet still ensure there was enough feeling to pique the interest of DuValle. By the time they were approaching the ranch, the sun was just dipping below the horizon. The colour had been drained from the sky and with the darkness of the national park came a change of tone from DuValle. Deeks mentioned in passing the failure of his alias's numerous marriages and DuValle began to allude to his conquests of women when in Iraq and Afghanistan. He was of the opinion that it was better to use and discard of women than the other way round. Both Callen and Deeks knew DuValle's conquests equated to rape and probable murder and they refrained from encouraging the man further. Luckily, DuValle fell silent as he turned off the main road. The car slowed to around ten to fifteen miles per hour and bumped over the dirt track they assumed led to the ranch.

'Got about another five miles of this guys, hope you don't get car sick.' Despite his words, DuValle did not sound concerned at all for the welfare of his companions, neither of whom bothered to answer.

True to his word, five miles later they stopped at a wooden gate, marking the entrance to the ranch. Deeks glanced at Callen who looked a little worse for wear.

'You good?'

Callen inhaled deeply and slowly turned to face Deeks.

'That was worse than being in a car with that ex of yours driving.'

'Ah, KK. Yeah she had mad driving skills.' Deeks returned his comments with a smile, wondering what Kensi's reaction would be if she could hear this conversation back in Ops.

'You're not gonna chunder, man?' DuValle asked. This time he did sound concerned. 'Maybe you should step out. You can open that gate for me.'

Callen didn't need to be asked twice and without saying a word he unfastened his seat belt and opened the car door. Standing on the solid ground felt good. He could travel on all types of boats, aircraft and most vehicles, but for some reason certain cars, drivers and terrains could be the undoing of him. Enjoying the cool night air, Callen walked over to the gate and undid the latch. Not much in the way of security he thought, recalling Nell's similar assessment. He walked the gate open and watched as DuValle pulled forwards. Once through, Callen closed the gate behind him and returned to the car.

'Just another couple of minutes now.'

'Glad to hear it.' Deeks said. 'Will we be in time for dinner?'

'Sure thing, bound to be a pot of chilli on the stove. You up to eating Rob?' DuValle shot a half worried look at Callen.

Callen gave him a thin smile. 'Nothing a bottle of beer won't sort out.'

A low fence surrounded the main buildings and was illuminated by a lamp hung from either side of another set of gates. At either side of the gates were the remains of stone columns which presumably had supported some kind of archway. A youth of about twelve ran from the porch towards them, raising a hand for a quick wave before he deftly pulled them open to allow the car through. Deeks looked behind him as the car pulled up and saw the kid closing the gates again.

'Welcome to your new home' DuValle turned and smiled at his guests. 'You can stay with us - for as long you like.'

Callen jolted and stared at DuValle, his words suddenly taking him back to his fifteen year old self.

'You sure you're alright? You look like you've seen a ghost.'

'It's nothing.' Callen shook his head. 'Just -nothing.'

'Ok. C'mon, let me introduce you to everyone.'

The three of them walked up the wooden steps to the veranda, Callen making sure he was not lingering at the back with Deeks. He didn't feel like being quizzed on the reaction DuValle had just witnessed. He just wanted to freshen up, grab a beer and get on with the operation.

The door opened up to a spacious living area that led to an equally large kitchen diner. Large, long couches were organised in a U shape with the fireplace forming the focal point of the room. There were several doors further down and to the right and a wide wooden staircase leading to the first floor. Sitting on the sofas and leaning forward towards a coffee table covered with cards, were half a dozen men. It looked as though the three had interrupted an evening of cards and the room which had been buzzing from tipsy conversation and testosterone suddenly became muted. A man Callen and Deeks recognised as Joshua Lyneham stood up. He folded the cards in his hand and placed them face down on the table.

'Anton.' He walked over and with a guarded smile welcomed his friend with a warm embrace. 'I didn't realise you were bringing _two_ guests with you tonight. You should have warned me.'

Lyneham made no attempt to disguise his appraisal of the two visitors, both of whom stood still and remained silent. This was a moment between a leader and his second in command and there was tension in the air. By remaining silent, the moment would naturally reveal clues to the state of the group which NCIS could later exploit.

DuValle took Lyneham by the arm and guided him away from Callen and Deeks.

'Call it an executive decision,' DuValle spoke in a low voice. 'Rob Gladstone is the one we really want, the shorter older one. I've checked out his records, he was in black ops. His file is heavily redacted and most of his past records are sealed. Honourable discharged but lots of blots on his record. Been arrested a few times too. The scruffy guy's his foster brother or something. Patten said he showed up at the shelter and thought it would be better for both to come along. He seems a real friendly guy. If he thinks like the rest of us we can easily use him out in the field. I agreed with Patten.'

Lyneham digested DuValle's words. There was an instinctive look of mistrust on the face of Rob Gladstone and a toughness that was acquired from decades of being forced to survive in unlikely circumstances. He had instantly realised the man he wanted was not the man who looked as though a comb and scissors hadn't seen his hair this side of the year. His brother did have a playful look in his eyes though. Yes, Lyneham thought, DuValle had made a good call. He tapped him on the shoulder and turned back to the two men who were patiently waiting at the entrance.

'Gentlemen, I'm Josh. I was only expecting one guest tonight and that was Rob.'

'I'm Rob.' Callen said. 'This is my brother Billy. If you have a room or bed free then he can take it. I'll crash on the floor. We'll be out of your way tomorrow.

'Nonsense.' Lyneham smiled. 'I did only have one bed set up but it's a twin room so if you don't mind sharing...And you're both more than welcome to stay. Let me introduce you to the others.'

Lyneham led them towards the group of men who had been staring at their new guests with undisguised interest.

'This here is Chet, Bradley, Raider, Thomason and Stone.'

Handshakes and basic pleasantries were exchanged and Callen and Deeks were invited to sit. Within minutes they both had a plate of hot chilli with rice and a bottle of beer which gave Lyneham the opportunity to speak while they ate. He told them he was a former Gunnery Sergeant who'd had trouble adapting to civilian life after an honourable discharge. He'd drifted for a while, hooked up with his former comrade Anton DuValle, and then found this disused ranch. Slowly they'd encountered other men, women and families who had fallen on hard times and before they'd realised, they had a community, a repaired ranch and numerous outbuildings and stables which now housed a growing number of people. Lyneham was not boastful in his storytelling, just factual and both Callen and Deeks would have believed him, were they not aware of the real purpose of his carefully constructed community.

'I'll give you both the grand tour tomorrow. But first let me show you to your lodgings.'

Lyneham stood up and Callen and Deeks followed, grabbing their bags which had been left next to the door. Lyneham led them out in to the night and away from the main ranch. About seventy meters away to the left were a series of single story stables. The whinnying of a horse was heard in the still night air.

'We have nine horses here. Either of you two ride?'

'Once.' Callen replied, pulling a face that suggested it was not an experience he wished to repeat.

'Never horses.' Deeks said mischievously. Callen shot him a daggered look whilst Lyneham chuckled.

'Well lucky for you we converted the stables on the other side and left the horses here. There are four self contained erm, apartments, I guess you'd call them. Small bedroom, one bathroom and a through lounge and kitchenette.'

'Sounds like you should have been in real estate.' Callen said, leading his partner into securing his alibi and justifying his reasons for staying.

'Realtors are scum.' Deeks said with a sudden vengeance in his voice. 'Bastards sell you a home you can barely afford and then the banks just whip it away.'

Lyneham glanced in Deeks' direction and filed the brief outburst away for future consideration. His look was not lost on either Callen or Deeks.

'Ain't no charge here. All I ask is that you help out around the ranch. Anything you can do from mending fences, cooking to mucking out the horses. Here you are.'

The converted stables may no longer have been full of sawdust, mice and horses, but they weren't quite as grand as Lyneham had made them out. A small sofa and a single arm chair took up most of the living room space and to the rear was a small kitchen, separated by a four seater table. Lyneham opened the door to the side.

'This here's the bedroom. Spare bedding is in that bottom drawer there. Next door is the bathroom. I'll leave you boys to it. Main house is always open so if you need anything, just come in. Stone is usually awake all night.'

'Stone? Which one was he?' Callen asked, knowing full well which of the men they'd met earlier had been Stone.

'He's the one build like a brick outhouse. Dresses in plaid shirts, red faced, dark hair. I think he might actually have been a brick in a former life. He clearly was just given the wrong name.' Lyneham smiled at his own joke as bid the pair goodnight, leaving them alone for the first time in about four hours.

Callen flopped down in the arm chair and stretched his legs out in front. The journey along the dirt road had left him feeling more nauseous than he cared to admit, although strangely the beer and food had somewhat settled his stomach. Unfortunately it had still left him with a throbbing headache. He closed his eyes briefly, thinking the fresh air from the walk to the stables had felt like a slice of heaven. He opened his eyes to see Deeks poking around the room in curiosity.

'What are you doing Billy?' Callen asked, ensuring he kept in character. His ingrained sense of paranoia was telling him to be cautious in case of hidden bugs and cameras.

'Geez Rob, you still paranoid? Think this place is bugged? That these hillbillies want to see you get naked in the shower and hear my awesome singing voice?' Deeks agreed with Callen's hidden sentiments. They had to maintain their cover for anything from a few days to a few months and there was no point in taking any risks. 'I mean I did catch that guy Stone staring at you. Good job the showers aren't communal and at a corner of one of the barns.

'You always were such a jerk.' Callen stood up. 'My head is killing me. I'm gonna get some fresh air.'

Callen left the door wide open, which Deeks took as an invitation to join him and the two men wandered silently in to the grounds. A clear sky meant the night was lit by the stars and the moon, which was lucky as the lights from the buildings were gradually extinguished as the community turned in for the night. Several hundred meters in front of them was the silhouette of a low slung fence. There were no nearby buildings, trees or shrubs and the two naturally gravitated towards it. Callen climbed on the fence and sat facing the ranch. Deeks faced opposite ensuring that anyone approaching would be instantly spotted. They were both aware of how easily sound travelled at night and all precautions needed to be taken.

'You alright?' Deeks whispered to Callen. He was aware of Callen's moods, even if he had rarely experienced them first hand and he couldn't be sure if the silence and solitude were natural, part of his cover or because he genuinely felt ill.

'I will be by morning.' Callen answered with a whisper and ran a hand through his hair. 'I know Nell said she couldn't find any trace of surveillance equipment but these guys seem too sensible to trust every stranger that crosses their paths. They probably have hidden cameras and mics all over the place. Maybe in the smoke alarms and the spot lights in the kitchen and bathroom. Unless we can guarantee we're on our own and can talk safely or with ops, we've gotta remain in cover.'

'I agree.' Deeks tapped his earwig which he had inserted during the short walk to the fence and murmured. 'Anyone there?'

'Sure, we're hearing you Deeks.' Eric replied. 'We were able to listen take screengrabs of the men in the ranch from your button cams.'

'We scored ten out of ten on facial rec on all five of them.' Nell continued. 'First is Chet Bailey, he's a petty criminal who's spent his life in and out of prison, nothing more than a common thief and thug for hire. Next is Bradley Moore, a former Navy Electronics Technician specialising in data systems. Looks like he started off at MIT but dropped out after a few months and then enlisted. He was caught stealing components and dishonourably discharged after a short spell in the Naval Consolidated Brig at Chesapeake, and you already know about Raider AKA Jeb Williams, the former Delta Force operator. Thomason Hawker doesn't seem to have a criminal record nor is there any trace that he served in the military. We have a drivers licence, school history. Looks like a normal twenty three year old. Not sure what his connection is to the rest of the crew.'

Eric paused as he let Callen and Deeks digest the information so far. 'And for a full house, Brett Stone is another thug for hire. Honourably discharged from the marines after being shot in the leg. He walks with a limp but he's a dangerous man. He's been arrested several times on suspicion of assault but never convicted - no evidence.'

'Nice guys Lyneham is surrounding himself with.' Deeks commented.

'We got nothing else for you at the moment.' Nell said. 'Hetty said that you need to sleep tonight and spend the next few days bedding in and winning their trust. She's happy for you to play the long game.'

'Understood.' Callen tapped his earwig, effectively signing off. 'You know the order of play. Be your naturally charming self, make friends and drop hints like earlier about how the Government has let you down. Nothing major, let them draw the stories out of you.'

'You can trust me to do this right.' Deeks muttered, jumping down from the fence and turning to face Callen with a cheeky grin. 'I have done this before.'

'I know but this is different to our usual assignments. We could be here for months so take it easy or they'll start to get suspicious. At the moment we have time on our side unless we get wind that another attack is imminent. We're both without our usual partners so we gotta try not to spring too many surprises on each other.'

Deeks suddenly broke in to a broad smile. 'You mean we can spring _some_ surprises on each other?'

Callen clambered down from the fence and raised his voice to a normal conversational tone.

'Only if you tell me what it is first!'

'What?' Deeks responded. 'Do you actually know the definition of surprise? In fact have you ever had anyone surprise you in your life?'

'Surprises are for kids.'

'Ah yes, and you were never a kid.'

'Had to grow up quickly' Callen retorted. 'Unlike you who never grew up at all.'

'You know it brother.' Deeks took a few long strides and caught up with Callen and draped an arm round his shoulder, pulling him in for a brief hug before letting him go. It was certainly going to be an interesting undercover assignment.


	13. Chapter 13

Deeks woke early the next day to sunlight streaming through the curtains and the sound of clattering crockery. He groggily brushed his hair from his half open eyes. The twin bed opposite was unmade and had clearly not been slept in. Callen must have fallen asleep in the chair he thought, swinging his legs out of the bed and hanging for a moment. He picked his t-shirt up from the floor and pulled on his jeans, padding barefoot in to the living area of his new home.

'Just coz you don't sleep doesn't mean you have to wake me up.' Deeks scrubbed his fingers over his face. Mornings were only good if he was up for an early surfing session, or if his ladybird was lying next to him.

'Stayed in the chair all night. Didn't want to disturb your much needed beauty sleep in case you got outta the wrong side of the bed. Which you clearly did.'

'Hhmm,' grunted Deeks, grabbing the cup of coffee from Callen's hands.

'That's mine!'

'Mmmm.' Deeks deliberately took a long and noisy slurp, staring at Callen over the rim of the mug and the rising steam.

'This is why I live on my own,' Callen muttered and grabbed another mug from the cupboard, deliberately slamming the door shut and clattered the mug on the side.

'Looks like I'm not the only grumpy one this morning.' Deeks said, suddenly feeling much happier.

'Hmm.' Callen replied and disappeared in to the bathroom.

Thirty minutes later both men were freshly showered and dressed in the clean clothes found hanging in the wardrobe. There was no reason for them to stay in their room and the outdoors beckoned them with sounds of muted conversations, power tools and children's voices. They had to earn their keep and the trust of the community. Morning greetings were made to the adults and Deeks chatted to several of the young children who had nosily come up to see the new strangers, allowing Callen to roam ahead. He found Lyneham on the veranda talking animatedly into a cell phone whilst simultaneously giving orders to Chet Bailley and Anton DuValle. Seeing Callen approach, Lyneham ended the call and smiled.

'You sleep OK?' He asked, noticing that his guest looked decidedly healthier than the previous night.

'Yeah.' Callen looked around him in quiet appreciation. 'This is a pretty neat set up you have here. How many of the men are ex-forces?'

'Maybe seventy five percent.' Lyneham answered. 'We keep this place pretty low key. We're totally self sufficient. Don't want and don't need any handouts from the Government. In fact they're the reason why most people are here. I have contacts like Patten at several shelters around Southern California - mainly LA. I like to offer good citizens who've fallen on bad times a place to either recover and move on or to live permanently. Coffee?'

Lyneham didn't wait for Callen to respond and instead moved inside and headed to the kitchen. Callen followed, knowing Deeks would either be close behind or already working his own style of magic. A large pot of coffee sat on the side and Lyneham picked up a clean cup from the sink, pouring some for Callen and refreshing his own.

'Patten and Anton told me you've been struggling since leaving the military.'

Callen looked up sharply, a naturally defensive expression on his face that was easily read by Lyneham.

'I just wanted to say that me and a lot of the others here know what you're going through. There's no counselling or pressure to talk. We just work outdoors mostly and enjoy the way the fresh air clears our minds and cleanses our souls.'

'Appreciated.' Callen said, privately thinking it sounded a bit hippyish. 'So what can Billy and I do to help?'

'Depends what your skills are? And where is Billy?'

'Er, I think he's making friends with the kids. He's always had an easy way with people and is pretty much on the same wave length as kids.'

'That's fine. What about you?'

'Me? Not so much.' Callen blew across his coffee cup, trying to cool it down so he could take a sip and avoid talking about himself too much. It was a crude tactic but one he had employed for many years.

Lyneham laughed. 'No, I meant are you good with your hands? We have ditches that need digging and fences that need erecting near the boundary. Or we have some electrics that need looking at? A couple of old vehicles that are on their last legs? Laundry and cooking?'

Callen shrugged. 'I'm pretty easy,' he said with a wry smile of his own. 'Provided it doesn't involve digging or any other type of physical work or anything remotely domesticated, I can turn my hand to anything.'

'Well that narrows down the options. I was going to tinker with the old cars today. C'mon, there's a thermos on the top shelf in the cupboard to the right. Pour your coffee in it and top it up. Should last you all morning. The cars are in the old barn about a mile back - if we finish repairing the cars we can start on the barn.'

There was an easy twinkle in Lyneham's eyes and Callen felt himself relax a little. Maybe he should actually allow himself to enjoy the first day before going to town with the subterfuge.

* * *

Deeks quickly found himself caught up with four overly excited children aged between six and eleven. He had naturally began clowning around and putting on funny voices and before long the kids were crying with laughter and playing football with him. Out of the corner of his eye he witnessed Callen following Lyneham indoors and figured there was no need for him to follow like a sheep dog and so he remained outside where he was repeatedly tackled to the ground until one of the mothers interrupted the fun. Deeks gently removed the six year old boy who was hugging his leg in an effort to prevent Deeks scoring a touchdown only to have him reattach himself, and so he dragged his leg in an exaggerated manner until he reached the mom, who promptly scolded the young boy.

'I am so sorry about Tommy.' Tom's mother lifted him up and balanced him on her hip.

'It was actually quite fun and strangely relaxing. I can't remember when I last laughed so much.' Deeks replied. He studied the woman in front of her. She looked to be in her late twenties and judging by how the eleven year girl old was now hugging her, he figured she was mom to both of them. 'They both yours?'

'Yes.' She smiled. 'You've met Tom, and this is Daisy. I've also got another running around somewhere, probably trying to be a man. A twelve year old.'

'Ah yes, I think he opened the gate for us last night.'

'That sounds about right. Ben. And I'm Tamsin.' Tamsin shifted Tommy's weight on her hip and held out her right hand which Deeks shook.

'I'm Billy. It looks pretty idyllic here.' Deeks slowly took in the sights of the ranch and its grounds. As far as he could so far tell, every man, woman and child seemed happy.

'It is. Bit like a hippy commune, I guess - but without the drugs, nakedness and free sex.' Tamsin added, a light strawberry blush crept up the side of her neck and coloured her cheeks.

'So how long have you lived her?' Deeks asked, deciding to ignore her embarrassment.

'For three years now. The children love it. One of the couples here were school teachers and they home school the kids every day. And I run the vegetable fields and the fruit trees. This year I've also started on a small vineyard.'

'Do you see the profits?' Deeks loved the idea in principle but knowing about the people who ran the community, he was sceptical as to the real benefits for the normal people caught up in the ranch's life.

'We're not slaves and this isn't a cult.' Tamsin said with a slightly indignant tone. 'I provide a portion of the food for everyone here in return for my living quarters. And there's plenty of excess that's sold in nearby villages and the markets in larger townships.'

'I'm sorry. It's just where I come from people aren't honest or trusting. This place is clearly doing well. Your kids are amazing.'

'Thank you.'

Tamsin put a wiggling Tommy down and he promptly stuck out his tongue at Deeks and ran off, causing Deeks to laugh and Tamsin to sheepishly regret agreeing that her kids were amazing.

'Look, I arrived last night with my brother who disappeared in to the main house about half an hour ago. I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to do...'

'Well you can help me round up the kids for school and then I'm heading out to the fields. Some of the men are out there repairing fences. I'm sure they'd welcome another helping hand.'

'Um, well, sure. But I'm not really good at being in the sun all day. Sensitive complexion - burn easy...' Even to Deeks his excuses sounded feeble. 'Do you have any sun block?'

* * *

Most of Callen's day was spent in the shade of the barn and under the hood of, ironically enough, a Dodge Challenger. Unlike Sam's this was manufactured in the 1970s, red with a black roof and in a poor state of repair. There was rust everywhere, one window broken, the other was stuck half way down. Three of the four tires were flat, the fourth missing altogether and the car was balanced by a stack of bricks. Naturally the engine failed to ignite and on a cursory investigation, battery acid had leaked everywhere. Generally there seemed to be little hope of a resurrection. The car next to it was also from the 1970s, a Ford Mustang whose suspension had collapsed. Both cars had been found in the barn after Lyneham and DuValle 'reclaimed' the property. When the tarpaulin was pulled back from both cars, an instant and unanimous decision had been made to work on the Challenger.

Conversation was initially sparse between the pair and focused on agreeing diagnostics and a plan of action. During the afternoon, Lyneham had taken the initiative and started talking about his family and the regrets he'd experienced at his behaviour in the early days and months after his discharge. Callen offered no such comparisons from his own alias's background, instead towing the line of asking why Lyneham didn't turn to the various Vets medical associations and centres for help. The tone took a slightly bitter turn as Lyneham explained the catalogue of errors and general ineptitude he had encountered. Callen threw in a few one liners of agreement, making sure the tone of his voice had undercurrents of the same bitterness and even anger. Although Lyneham had said there was no counselling or therapy sessions at the ranch, Callen felt as though he should charge him for his time and said as much with a sly wink, ensuring his words were taken in a light hearted manner, rather than risk creating an uneasy atmosphere between the two men.

At around four they were interrupted by a rather sun kissed looking Deeks, who was accompanied by a slim, tall brunette. She was wearing a white shirt unbuttoned to her chest with a vest top underneath. Slightly heeled cowboy boots accentuated the skinny jeans that hugged her long legs. Callen assumed this was the woman Nell had warned them about. Certainly her demeanour had an air of superiority which was reflected in the seriousness of her facial expression.

'What are you kids up to?' Deeks joked. 'Nothing legal, I'm sure.'

'Totally legal.' Callen returned, stretching his back as he stepped away from the car. He'd been leaning over the engine for the past forty minutes straight and for a moment thought his back had seized up, which would have amused Sam had he been around.

'How times have changed. Rob's spent half his teenage years breaking the law and the other half trying to get away with it. When he was a kid, he could boost any car you placed in front of him.'

'Nothing wrong with that.' Lyneham said. 'Sign of a great education, you ask me.'

'He could also lift anything you asked from some woman's purse to a wallet in a guys inner pocket. Y'know once he stole a book out of some old guy's man-bag _and_ his hip flask. I found him half cut reading some English classic under Santa Monica pier. B and E and auto theft, man that was his sweet spot before he got caught.'

Callen furrowed his eyebrows. He and Deeks hadn't been too detailed in discussing their aliases childhood antics and it sounded like Hetty had given him some edited highlights from his real youth. He was not happy. In fact he was more than a little pissed off that Hetty had broken his confidence for the sake of an undercover alias.

'Billy, why don't you for once in your pathetic little life just shut the fuck up.' Callen's voice was harsh and the tone left no doubt that he was not impressed about revelations from his personal life.

Deeks was taken aback. What the hell had he said to receive that kind of abuse? He opened his mouth to speak again when the woman stepped forward and interrupted.

'Boys,' she said with a supercilious smile. 'If you're going to start brawling I'll have to ask you to wait until the evening when we can clear a space in the red barn and make sure bets are laid. Bare knuckle fighting only.'

'What? No, we're not gonna fight. I mean, we're brothers, well sort of.' Deeks turned serious and stared at Callen. 'We're not, are we? Fighting I mean...'

'We will if you carry on talking the way you are now.' Callen held his stare and narrowed his eyes as he laid down the challenge.

'Ok, I'll shut up.' Deeks pursed him lips together in an exaggerated movement and shoved his hands in his jeans pockets.

'That'll be a miracle I'll pay to see.' Callen said, turning away from Deeks to wipe the oil from his hands on to an equally oily rag.

Deeks glanced sharply at his partner, unsure whether he was still in his alias. He was suddenly getting the impression that Callen regretted having him as a partner. The two usually got along fine, but then they rarely spent much time alone. Thinking about it further, Deeks realised that when it was just the two of them, Callen had frequently made excuses to leave. One time he had literally shut the door on him and another time just vanished.

'Ariel.' Lyneham said quickly. 'These are our latest guests. This is Rob, and guess you've already met Billy.'

'Billy was helping repair the outlying fences and doing a pretty good job. I called everyone back for an early dinner. Thomason said it'll be ready in an hour.' She lifted her chin in Lyneham's direction. 'We need to talk. Now.'

'Sure. See you guys in the house for dinner.'

Ariel turned on her heel and exited the barn. Lyneham gave a rueful look to Callen and shook his head with a slight smile before following Ariel outside.

'Interesting women you mix with Billy.' Callen threw the oily rag on to a stack of worn tires and walked around the car until he stood beside Deeks.

'Don't you know it brother. C'mon, we need to clean up before dinner. And then you can rub moisturiser on my back. I think, my man, you can dig ditches tomorrow and I'll cozy up to the boss.'

'Not gonna happen. You just keep dreaming.' Callen stared at the rear view of Ariel as she marched towards the ranch.

'I've gotta say she's outta your league and I don't think my charms have made any dents in that hard exterior. There's plenty of time for her to fall for me yet.' Deeks also looked wistfully after the woman.

Callen lowered his voice as the pair left the barn and made their way to their rooms.

'See the way she gave the orders to Josh. Makes me think he's not really in charge and that means she could be the key to this entire organisation.' He paused and glanced at Deeks, all earlier animosity had now vanished and Callen was back focused one hundred percent on the case. 'If I can get close to her and make her believe I can offer her something she wants or needs...'

Deeks laughed and lightening the mood with a broad smile.

'I'm betting she has a whole lot of needs.'

'Exactly.'

Callen met Deeks' smile with one of his own, understanding the euphemism. He was sure he could persuade Ariel to reveal her secrets without resorting to false declarations of love or anything further. He knew plenty who took advantage of undercover work - he had done so himself when he was younger, for the good of a mission but with changes of agencies and maturity, he had acquired higher standards and morals. Sleeping with a woman for his own pleasure whilst undercover had never held much interest for him.

* * *

It seemed as though the entire community had gathered in the ranch for dinner that evening. Deeks counted at least eighty men, women and children and figured many had been either off site or working in paddocks and fields they had not yet discovered. The women and children accounted for twenty of the population which meant seven women to thirteen children, and not all were mothers. Several had the air of ex-military personnel and carried themselves in the same way as the majority of the men. The age demographic of the men was between twenty to fifty, a fair proportion were white American, with some African-Americans, Hispanics and Italian-Americans mixed in for good measure. Education wise, there seemed to be a higher than average standard and Deeks would have laid money that most were college graduates, which had surprised him. He figured the community ran on similar principles to a cult, that these were individuals or families were easily susceptible due to their emotional vulnerability and so he struggled to compute that such people could be educated.

Many of the men kept to their own small groups but as the beer flowed, conversations became easier and both Deeks and Callen managed to circulate well. Deeks stuck to the women, families and the men who looked like they didn't take life too seriously, knowing he could easily fit in. Callen had the more difficult job of integrating himself with the former marines and special ops guys. The fact that he had no military experience, certainly that Deeks knew of, made him respect his leader even more. Every now and again he could hear Callen regale tales of black ops in Iraq and Afghanistan, keeping the stories suitable vague yet believable, and Deeks enjoyed the insight of witnessing how well Callen traded his craft.

Despite the early dinner, many people had hung around to interact socially and only began to disperse at about nine pm. That left twenty or so in the room, including Lyneham and Ariel; DuValle was nowhere to be seen and neither Deeks or Callen missed the man's presence. Voices became slightly hushed and it apparent they were intruding on private conversations.

'Rob,' Chet Bailley, one of the men they'd been introduced to the previous night, addressed Callen. 'If you and Billy here don't mind, we have some business to attend to.'

'Sure.' Callen tapped Deeks on the shoulder and the two made their way to the door.

'Nothing personal mind,' Chet continued as he witnessed what could only be described as a kicked puppy look on Deeks' face. 'We're discussing the future of the ranch and everyone here and no offence, but we can't be having strangers taking part in those conversations.'

'Oh, ok.' Deeks said, clearly disappointed. 'Do y'mind if we grab a few beers and take a wander? Work off that steak?'

'Course not,' Lyneham interjected. 'You've both earned it today. Catch you in the morning.'

And with a few brief sentences, Callen and Deeks were dismissed with beers in their hands and full bellies. Once outside in the fresh air they paused, glancing around and wondering which way to head. Callen twisted the lid off one of his bottles and handed it to Deeks before performing the same action on his. Taking a long swig that left it half empty, he used it as a pointer and directed them towards the south of the property. Without uttering a word the two made their way past a few sporadic groups who were enjoying the last of the day. The evening was turning a little fresh and soon the children would be ushered in for bed. Deeks smiled contentedly. He would have loved to have grown up in such a relaxed and outdoor environment. Of course it wasn't perfect, he thought. There was no ocean close by, and then there was the fact the ranch was really a front for home grown terrorist activities. Although they were only at the end of their first day, he was really struggling to see beyond the idyllic nature of the community. He couldn't believe people such as Tamsin would stay if she knew what Lyneham was really like.

'I know they kicked us out for their _private discussions_ but no one I've met today - and I've met a lot of people - has bitched about the Government or how they hate America or want to teach them a lesson.'

The two had strolled deep in to a paddock where horses were roaming free. There was not another soul in sight.

'You're saying we have this wrong?'

'I don't know. It doesn't feel like there's the kind of hate that is needed to set off coordinated smoke bombs in realtors or recruitment offices. People just seem to have made their peace out here in the country.'

'We've been here a day. Don't tell me you're already blindsided with some fake version of what a perfect life should be like.'

'I'm not.' Deeks said defensively. 'I'm just saying maybe we're looking in the wrong place.'

Callen stopped walking and turned to face Deeks.

'And so where do you think we should be looking?'

His tone was more than a little accusatory, catching Deeks by surprise and causing him to pause for a moment.

'Have I upset you?' He asked outright. He wasn't sure if he was making it up but he was convinced that over the last twelve hours or so Callen had developed a rather condescending attitude towards him, and he was becoming more than a little pissed.

'I think I should be asking you that question, don't you think?'

'What? No. This is all wrong. Is this about that thing in the barn? Does it really matter? I was just trying to help with your alias. You telling me that Rob Gladstone wasn't some tear-away kid? Isn't that what we agreed?' Deeks struggled to keep his voice down to a loud whisper.

'What did Hetty tell you?'

Callen kept his voice low and even. Deeks was suddenly struck by the cold look in Callen's eyes.

'Nothing, man. Nothing to do with you. She said nothing, just that we had to keep an eye out for each other. You looked so comfortable under the hood of the Dodge that I thought it made sense to say you hotwired cars. And stole stuff, and broke into places - misspent youth and all.'

Deeks felt Callen's stare burn in to his face and he quickly added, 'Rob...'

Even out in the fields they were both careful not to reveal their true identities but still, Deeks' words faded as he caught the look on Callen's face and realised he must have arrived a little closer to the truth than he had intended, and certainly closer than Callen would want to admit.

'Look we've all been there. I was caught by the cops in a stolen car when I was a kid. I did all the underage drinking, shoplifting and stuff. I was no angel either.'

'And Ariel?'

'What about Ariel? Jeez, are you always this paranoid or do I just bring out the worst in you? We were good until yesterday and I don't get what's changed. If you're talking about what I said earlier, all I meant was she's an attractive lady.'

'How far would you go to get her to trust you?'

'How far would I go? I er, I um...'

'Would you cheat on Kens?'

Deeks jaw dropped in astonishment. He wondered what the hell was going on with him and why Hetty hadn't warned him about Callen's intense paranoia when undercover. During his time on the team he was not aware of Callen ever acting so irrationally.

'Would I ch-? What? No!'

Callen took a step closer to him and Deeks resisted the urge to take a pace back. He was not used to seeing Callen like this and could not fathom why his behaviour had changed. It couldn't be the alcohol, he thought, neither had enough to make them drunk and he knew Callen could hold his drink better than most. Maybe his alias and this case was messing with his head but they'd barely been undercover for a day.

'Look, I know you're close with Kensi, and I-'

'What's that supposed to mean?' Callen prodded Deeks hard in the chest, causing him to stumble back.

'Shit!' Deeks finally relented and raised his voice. 'What the fuck is wrong with you tonight? You're the one that practically said you'd sleep with her and it's not like you're single. How d'you think Anna would feel or her father for that matter? Maybe you should be questioning your own morals before attacking mine.'

Callen dropped his shoulders, and started to turn away and then Deeks found himself falling to the ground, his jaw suddenly exploding in pain. Callen landed on his chest, pinning his hands to the side and leaning forward, his lips close to Deeks' ear.

'We were followed, I clocked Stone about two minutes ago. Sorry Deeks but I need to build a reputation here and with Stone's history of violence, I need to do everything possible to get me in with the whole crew.'

Deeks was convinced Callen could have found a better way of warning him and he still believed he'd pissed the man off earlier. He sincerely hoped Callen had now gotten whatever it was out of his system.

'You bastard.' Deeks croaked, trying to split blood from his cut lip at Callen.

'So I've been told,' Callen eyes softened as he eased his grip on Deeks. Speaking quietly he continued. 'I'll let you repay the punch but maybe leave it for a week. This is going to be a long op. Tomorrow is Saturday. Play hide and seek with the kids. It will let you nose around those derelict barns and sneak in to the ones the kids are banned from.'

'While you just keep playing the hard ass black ops guy with the chip on his shoulder? If I didn't know better I'd have thought you were playing for real.'

Callen brought his face close to Deeks again and flashed a quick grin that settled Deeks' nerves and ebbed his anger.

'Who's to say it's not real?'

And with that Callen quickly leapt off Deeks and walked briskly away, alert for any indication that Deeks was ignoring his advice and would tackle him to the ground in revenge, there and then. There was no noise, no rustling of grass and he sensed no movement, not from Deeks at least. Stone was another matter. He refrained from looking to his right, but years of training and a lifetime of paranoia meant he knew Stone had just crouched behind the boundary fence. He could almost hear him breathing. He regretted punching Deeks. He bore the man no malice and despite his earlier words, everything he had done today had been in the name of his alias Rob Gladstone. At least he hoped it had been.


	14. Chapter 14

That night in the privacy of their twin room Callen apologised to Deeks and Deeks accepted. He still wasn't entirely convinced as to Callen's reasons but he had witnessed Stone emerge from hiding and follow Callen. He knew Callen had give him an open invitation to return the punch but he was unsure if that was really in keeping with his own undercover alias. Billy to him, was a bit of a loser who couldn't form proper relationships no matter how desperate he was to have a normal family life, which explained his disastrous string of failed marriages. Billy had been a kid who'd ended up in foster care after shooting his father and had developed an unlikely attachment to a bad-ass kid three years older than him. Hetty had decided to play around with their ages to make the foster care stories work. Callen's alias Rob and his hard life made him look older than he really was; he was thirty eight and Billy was thirty five. Hetty was also keen on the idea of keeping Deeks' childhood similar to his own but again to make the ages work, Billy shot his father aged nine. His mother had suffered a nervous breakdown and could not care for her son. Deeks wasn't particularly fussed about his past being the basis for his alias but he would lay money that Hetty had suggested the same to Callen and Callen hadn't felt quite as comfortable. It certainly explained his earlier behaviour in the barn, even though it was perfect for both their aliases. Upon reflection, there was probably a warning in Callen's punch, even if the man would never admit it. He knew he was annoying. He knew Callen was annoying. It just seemed they decided to seriously annoy each other at the wrong moment - or the right moment - for their aliases. Deeks tenderly poked his cut lip with his tongue. It was nothing, he'd had a lot worse. He pulled the blanket up round his neck and closed his eyes, smiling suddenly and wincing with the slight pain it caused. Revenge would be so sweet. Callen could at times be extremely lazy and he had witnessed him worm out of paperwork and all types of physical activities at NCIS. This was a working ranch after all and Callen looked like he needed some exercise.

* * *

Despite his best intentions, Callen had been volunteered - by Deeks of course - for a number of physical duties, most of which involved the painstaking renovation of a rather dilapidated brick outbuilding. As soon as the first excuses left Callen's mouth, Stone, Lyneham and Raider made sure he was part of the team that would work daily to complete the task. Callen swore long and loud, cursing Deeks even more after the younger man made a point of touching his lip and making sad puppy dog eyes. It was a move that did not go unnoticed by the men, who seemed highly amused and even more determined to force their new buddy in to physical activity. Callen may have openly resented the underhand move but he was secretly grateful. He would now be spending all day every day in the company of the men he believed were behind the home grown terrorism. The one piece of the puzzle he was nowhere close to understanding was Ariel. He was a patient man - well sometimes - and he had complete confidence that if his alias played his cards right, Ariel would come to him.

The old outbuilding was located a mile to the south of the main ranch and nine men including Callen, jumped in a pick-up truck for the short ride. The sun's rays were already beating down and the clock hadn't yet ticked round to nine. Callen climbed out as the truck pulled to a halt and joined the men as they gathered just inside the building, keen to make the most of the shade before starting work.

'Guys.' Lyneham addressed the men. 'So far we've renovated the main house and several nearby barns and converted one set of stables into rooms. This outhouse is next. It's gonna provide storage facilities and needs to be water tight and secure. There's also an underground storage area that needs work done on it so it's gonna be all hands to the pump every day until it's finished. We'll split into groups of three. Raider, you and Rob and will be with me, we'll clear all the crap so we can make a start on the interior. Stone, take Brad and Chet to start repairing the exterior brick work. And you three need to get up on the roof. I need a survey done before we can begin the repairs as I'll have to place an order with Ariel for roofing tiles. Oh, and there's a delivery due in about an hour which we'll need to move inside.'

'Can't see Ariel accepting any orders from you, boss,' Raider grinned at Lyneham.

'Yeah, well we're only renovating this place now coz she wants it secure inside, outside and underground.' Lyneham replied.

'I thought _you_ ran this place?' Callen piped up, genuinely interested to hear the answer. As soon he and Deeks had been introduced to Ariel, it was clear there was an underlying power struggle between the two. His comments caused a ripple of amusement through the men.

'Josh runs this place but DuValle pulls his strings. He was the one who brought Ariel in about four months ago.' Stone answered.

'She's the whole package.' Raider continued. 'Looks, money, brains, brawn...'

'Just missing a personality.' Chet added, causing more sniggers and comments.

'DuValle is not all he thinks he is Stone, you know that. But Ariel's presence means we can keep accepting nut jobs like you Rob, and that brother of yours.' Lyneham said.

'Gee, thanks.' Callen replied with a straight face.

'Yeah' Stone added. 'Don't think we don't know went on with you two yesterday. You smashed him up for no reason.'

Callen looked offended and took a threatening step towards Stone. 'It was a tiny slap and it wasn't for no reason, he deserved it. What's it to you anyway?'

Stone took a pace back and started laughing. 'Y'know, I like your spirit. You'll go far here.'

'What?'

'You'll see...'

'Are you always this cryptic?

'Only when I need to be.'

'OK boys,' Lyneham drew the banter to a close. 'This building ain't gonna renovate itself. Let's get moving.'

With the order given, the men moved to their allotted groups and activities. Clearing the interior of the outbuilding was not as easy as it should have been. Lyneham gave Callen and Raider a quick overview of the building's layout. It was basically three quarters the size of the main ranch and comprised of several interior walls. Towards the rear were steps that led to a loft space and tucked underneath several large and rusty tractors was the hatch to the underground area. Callen likened it to a brick built barn rather than an outbuilding. It was meant to be sturdy and secure but the loft area reminded him of when he had once hidden from a very angry foster father. He gazed at the ladder which led upwards, temporarily lost in the past.

'Y'know,' Lyneham's voice jolted Callen back to the present. 'I remember once having to hide under the straw when I was a kid.'

'What? Some broad's angry pa after you with a pitch fork?' Raider slapped the men on the shoulders and was rewarded with a poisonous look from both. He held his hands up in apology and backed away, muttering something about people no longer having a sense of humour.

'Yeah, I once had to hide in the loft of a barn.'

Lyneham laughed softly. 'I bet that had nothing to do with a girl or her father either.'

'No.'

'I was living with this family on a farm and the foster dad accused me of taking his car for a joyride.'

A smile tweaked at Callen's lips. 'I was accused of stealing twenty bucks from my foster mom's purse. Bastard hauled me down from the loft. Landed on the hay and got the belt for lying, stealing and hiding.'

Lyneham smiled knowingly. 'Bet you took that money too.'

'Damn right I did, how else was I gonna leave some shit-hole farm in the middle of nowhere. Bet you took that car too. It drive well?'

'Nah, piece of junk barely made it back from town.'

Callen's smile broadened. 'I never realised you were in the system.'

'Well Rob, I made the choice to leave my old life behind. I changed my name, my attitude, and managed to enrol in the navy. And you know what? Turns out I was so institutionalised I made most of the same fuck ups I would have if I hadn't made that change. I just swapped one system for another. Don't you feel that too? The social welfare system conditioned you to think and feel a certain way, that you're worthless, unwanted, a drain on society. They impose rules on you, dictating where you live and how you live, restrict your possessions and subject you to all types of abuse. And then what happens, we join gangs, the military - hell, I even knew one kid who joined a cult. Guys like us, we just exchange one type of institution for another and pretend we've moved on.'

Callen listened to Lyneham's words. There seemed to be no bitterness behind them, he was just stating the facts as he saw them. It wasn't the first time Callen had heard such rhetoric. Sam had once told him the reason he hated all bureaucrats as an adult, was because of how they had pushed him from one foster home to the next when he was a child. It was true. As a child Callen had developed a contempt for authority which had stayed with him in adulthood. He now had a natural aversion to doing as he was told and was suspicious of - well - everyone. He may never have actually served in the military, despite numerous aliases that had, but he had served his country in the employ of some of the most famous alphabet agencies. They were institutions in themselves and he worked where ever they sent him. Callen had no idea what he would do if he left the service of the government. He'd probably just drift along and hope he didn't develop in to an alias such as Rob. That's of course, provided he didn't die on the job.

Callen shook his head. 'You are one intriguing man Josh. I've never thought of it like that before. I guess no matter how much I crave freedom I don't actually know how to live outside the system.'

'It's true, look at your brother. Billy can't function in the world. From what I can gather he just drifts from one relationship to another, unable to settle down and form roots. At least you tried to give yourself a chance with a career in the military. And y'know, all it does is mask the problems. There's no magic cure. Once you leave foster care no one gives a crap, same as now. You have problems, the Government washes it's hand of you. If I'm not in the system, it's like I don't exist.'

Callen couldn't quite bring himself to smile even inwardly at the irony of his own words. He knew he had been lucky, very lucky, and that meant he could understand that to a certain degree Lyneham had a valid point.

'Sometimes you need to fight to get the attention you deserve. Like when we were kids.' Lyneham continued.

'I think I just got attention because of my fighting,' Callen said.

'Well Rob, this is what my ranch is all about. Giving ourselves a voice and making ourselves heard. And making sure those bastards pay attention and make changes.'

'How are you gonna do that?' Callen asked, sarcasm laced his voice. 'Go on a march in Washington? Wave a placard? Getting in to fights got me noticed when I was a kid, maybe you should do the same now?'

'That my friend, is exactly what we're doing.' Lyneham placed an arm around Callen's shoulder and led him back outside. 'All this is to secure everything we need to train and arm ourselves for a very persuasive campaign. I intend to get the Government to realise people are losing their homes, families and their sanity. The institutions of the welfare state and the military do not provide the support or funding needed. The quicker we finish this, the sooner we start to prepare.'

'That sounds like a plan. When?' Callen's eyes widened with understanding and reflected the emotions in Lyneham's face.

'Four weeks. It will be big and it will be loud. We'll be heard from east coast to west.'

'For Christ's sake you two,' Raider shouted. 'You're so cosy I'm a startin' to think you twos should get a room together. But then I got t'thinkin' that you bastards should actually help me work. I'm sure as hell not gonna do my job and yours...'

* * *

Deeks looked up from the couch and smiled. Callen looked wrecked. He had come in at about five, grabbed a beer from the fridge and headed straight for the shower. He now stood in the doorway, towel wrapped round his waist and a second beer in his hand.

'Wow,' Deeks started. 'You are really starting to look quite trim. Seems that homelessness, fresh air and physical work suits you.'

Callen swore and leaned against the doorframe.

'On the downside, your vocabulary has shrunk. Sure you're not destroying some brain cells with all that beer you're necking?'

In answer to Deeks' question, Callen drained the remainder of his bottle in one and walked to the kitchen, grabbing another two from the fridge, this time handing one to Deeks.

'That's better my friend.' The younger man smiled. 'So how was your day?'

Callen eased himself in to the arm chair, letting out a loud sigh as he sat.

'Exhausting. Yours?'

'Boring. I'm starting to feel like a spare part.'

'You'd better come and work with me then tomorrow.'

'Ah ah ah.' Deeks waved his finger back and forth. 'I see what you're doing there, tricking me in to actually having to do some work.'

'We're on a deadline - four weeks to finish the renovations before we prepare for something big.'

Still paranoid their apartment might be bugged, Callen gestured towards the door and the two moved outside, slowly walking away from the lodgings. They stopped about twenty meters away, before it looked too suspicious that Callen was wandering in to nearby paddocks wearing only a towel.

Speaking in low voices, Callen continued. 'We've got four weeks to get tight with this crew and work out where they're getting the weapons from. We also need to work out who Ariel is, how she's positioned herself at the top, what these militia connections are and how far they stretch.'

'Whoa, four weeks. And that's a lot of questions we have to answer. How'd that come about?'

Callen briefed Deeks on the events of the day and the conversations he'd had with Lyneham. He included his thoughts that Lyneham seemed to think that he was a kindred spirit due to a similar upbringing and life experiences. He also added that as Deeks' alias had been thrown in to the mix he now realised that no one would object to bringing Deeks in to the fold. The fact that he had no connections to the military was a moot point; it was the toughness of the men and their resolve, built through shared life experiences which created the bond on the ranch.

'So what about Ariel? I saw her around earlier.' Deeks asked. Callen may have eased his way in with the men but they both realised that Ariel was the key to infiltrating the true hierarchy.

'She was driving a truck that off loaded three heavy metal boxes earlier. No one checked what was inside and it took two men to move each of them into a corner of the barn.'

'The same one you're working on?'

'The very same. And no I don't think it would be wise to go take a peek. We're gaining their trust and in another few weeks or so we'll be part of their inner circle. We can wait. My guess is it contains weapons, but whether they've been stolen from a military base or provided by the Northern California Lightfoot Militia I don't know. We can get the wonder twins to check for missing shipments and any militia chatter when we check in with them later. The boxes must've been placed in the cellar as there was no sign of them later.'

'So what about Ariel?' Deeks repeated his earlier question, unsure how the subject had changed so quickly.

'She went off with Lyneham for a few minutes. When they returned she was holding a piece of paper which could just have been the order for roofing tiles. I did find out that Ariel was brought in by DuValle, not Lyneham. He's not real keen on her.'

'Yeah, I sorta gathered that yesterday. So if DuValle brought her in, that means he may be running this outfit. D'ya think he has some hold over Lyneham and is forcing him in to all this?'

'I'm not sure yet. Lyneham said he'd been brought up in care and changed his name to join the navy. We'll get Nell to check that out too. He must have had expert help with that as there was no indication of anomalies in his records. He and the others genuinely seem like decent men who've just been dealt a bad hand so maybe there is some leverage. '

As he uttered those final words Callen began to walk away from Deeks and headed back to their rooms. Deeks looked up sharply at Callen, following him back through the door and watching as he headed to the kitchen. He could not tell if he was serious. Callen had said he thought Lyneham believed his alias Rob was a kindred spirit, but Deeks was forming a solid suspicion that Callen - not his alias - was starting to bond with Lyneham. He had never worked with Callen on an undercover operation and in recent years the team had not embarked on many long term missions, Kensi's White Ghost assignment being the major exception. Deeks quietly observed Callen open the fridge door, seeing his hand hesitate before pulling out a chocolate bar. During an early case with the team, he had listened to Callen play chicken with a team of assassins employed by a Chechen terrorist. He had a gun pointed at him and had literally taken it down to the wire with the bad guys to see if he could hold his nerve or admitted to being a cop to save his life. Calling their bluff had saved him and allowed the case to move forward. Callen might be able to play it cool in extreme circumstances but Deeks had also seen him become emotionally attached and witnessed the repercussions. He had been stunned by Callen's reaction after a white supremacist was shot and killed. Callen had made a futile attempt to save his life and then afterwards walked away from the team, Sam included. Callen had received basic medical attention but refused to go to hospital. Instead he had returned to the Mission and taken off in his car without a word to anyone. Deeks had never asked why, although he knew Hetty had sent Sam to find and talk to him. He could only think that Callen had made a connection and maybe felt guilty. About what, Deeks was uncertain and he now had a feeling in his gut that the same could happen here.

'What?'

Callen's voice jolted Deeks back to the present.

'Uh?'

'You were staring at me. Why?'

'Um, nothing. It was nothing. I...you're good.'

'I know. Not so sure you are...'

Callen opened the fridge door again and grabbed another bar, throwing it at Deeks who managed to catch it just in time.

'Thanks.'

'You're welcome. I'm starving. Raider said it's southern fried chicken and fries tonight.'

'Raider?' Deeks suddenly smiled, deciding to conveniently place his concerns about Callen on hold. 'I like this idea of nicknames.' He stood with a flourish and held out his arms towards Callen. 'From this point forward, you will be known as Cowboy.'

'Cowboy?'

'Well apart from your love of country and western music, which I happen to know drives some people mad...you can be a bit on the reckless side.'

'Who've you been spending too much time with?' They were both still cautious about breaking cover although it was clear the conversation was about Sam.

'Do you like Stetsons?'

'Nope.'

'Horses?'

'Nope.'

'Cattle?'

'Not unless it's dead, on my plate and ready to eat.'

'Perfect. Cowboy it is!'

'I think you're more suited to being called cowboy. You're just as reckless and you love showing off.'

'Since when have I ever been reckless?' Deeks asked with mock offense in his eyes.

'C'mon Cowboy, let's get ready for that supper.'

'Sure thing. Ah, hold it. I finally got a nickname for you - G - for Gladstone!' Deeks looked triumphant as the brainwave hit him.

Callen smiled and shook his head as he walked past Deeks to the bedroom. In all fairness, 'cowboy' was a great nickname and one Sam had once used in Afghanistan after he revealed he didn't like horses. It suited Deeks a whole lot better though and he had to admire how he managed to pull a little piece of normality in to their situation. G!


	15. Chapter 15

The next few days progressed in much the same way and soon Callen and Deeks had completed their first week undercover. Both men were up at the crack of dawn and spent the entire day working on repairing the barn with the rest of the team. The intense physical activities were making both leaner and fitter already, and the abundance of outdoor living allowed their minds to relax. Deeks' laid back attitude made many of the men trust him, although there were still a handful that just did not like him, period. The men who had no time for Deeks were the ones that were more accepting of Callen, seeing in him a fellow soldier who had fought long and hard for the USA and received very little thanks or support in return. It helped that they could churn out stories about their less than idyllic childhood and experiences of the system. Both men developed an easy going rapport with Raider, reminding them of their respective partnerships at NCIS. Callen continued to be drawn towards Josh Lyneham and the friendship was most definitely reciprocated. It was a strange kinship which neither man had voiced, but they had both instantly felt as though they had known each other for many years. It rang alarm bells in the back of Deeks' mind and no matter how much he tried to verbalise his concerns either the moment was never right or Callen shut him down before he could speak.

During the evenings the undercover partners walked to the edge of the property where away from prying eyes, they created detailed maps of the land, pinpointing locations that demanded further investigation, either by themselves in the near future or when NCIS eventually raided the place. The hand sketched maps were held in front of their button cams so Ops could take a screen grab and overlay the various versions until they had as complete a picture as possible. This gave the team a valuable insight the satellite images never could. Keen not to appear inseparable which would contradict Callen's earlier one sided fight with Deeks, after the first few evenings they began to drift away from each other. This allowed them to individually make contact with ops and as they settled in to a routine it was agreed they would check in every third day by ten pm at the latest, unless they had important information to relay.

Ranch life was surprisingly organised. The days were structured and everyone knew their roles. Even after a week patterns were easy to identify and Callen and Deeks closely observed the small pickup truck that made deliveries on a Monday and Thursday. One of them was received in the now weather-proofed underground storage area in the barn they were renovating and Ariel had been the driver. The other delivery comprised of food, horse feed and equipment to repair the barns. As far as Callen and Deeks could tell, the special delivery was made up of medium sized sealed crates. There had been no opportunities at all to speak to Ariel and the pair realised they would also have to start working DuValle. Deeks thought Lyneham might be the weak link in the chain due to him not having a close relationship with Ariel and it took very little to persuade Callen to agree it was a good angle to exploit.

They still had not formulated a plan to get close to either Ariel or DuValle and certainly the former was a case of whoever had the first opportunity. DuValle was in theory a more challenging prospect. His ex-military status logically dictated that Callen's alias would have the most in common which immediately caused a problem as Callen was bonding with Lyneham. The two had become almost best friends and Deeks had already overheard Callen giving advice over Lyneham's girlfriend Lizzie and her son. It seemed she had disappeared after a quick phone call saying she needed time to 'consider their future'. Callen was pleased Lizzie had listened their advice although it didn't help the immense feeling of guilt he now felt at disrupting her son's life just as it was becoming more stable. At the same time he was also consoling Lyneham and rationalising the situation which caused Deeks to rib Callen relentlessly. For once Callen let it wash over him. He needed to continue to work Lyneham, get close to him and exploit that relationship. The truth was neither wanted to spend time with DuValle so Callen agreed they'd give it another week to see if anything naturally developed before taking more decisive and direct action. Meanwhile Deeks would get close to Raider. They both shared a more relaxed attitude to life.

Over the next few days Callen began to withdraw from Raider's company to allow Deeks a better chance to cement his friendship. The two had already bonded over their shared love of surfing and Deeks soon realised that Raider had about as much luck with women and commitment as his undercover alias. Their conversations were frequently humorous and both complained that no one really understood the unique way their minds worked when it came to - well anything.

'Y'know, I was once with this surf chick that just swam away on my board. Never to be seen again.' Raider was shouting at Deeks in between hammering nails into the internal wooden divides that once provided stables for horses.

'Bet you were heartbroken.' Deeks was focused on holding the new wooden panels in place, trusting that Raider would not slip with the hammer and smash his fingers to smithereens. 'Bet you loved that board.'

'Certainly did. Chicks come and go but when you connect on a wave with your favourite board, man there's no feeling like it.'

'My...' Deeks paused as if to think hard about what he was to say next. 'Second wife took an electric saw to mine. Turned out she was psycho. Destroyed my skateboard and sabotaged my mountain bike. I don't think she respected my free spirit!'

'I hear you. My second wife didn't appreciate my efforts to keep our family together. Took off with my kid when I went down for robbery. Seemed to forget we were living in a trailer park after those bastard bankers took our house.'

'Got no kids man, but my last girlfriend left me when I lost my job and I couldn't afford the rent. Getting a job herself was beneath her so she was no help. Tried welfare - again - and was refused all help. Again.'

'Makes me mad. I served this country faithfully, put my life on the line every single day, saw things you could not imagine - Christ, did things you could never imagine. I had a perfect record, honourably discharged and then bam - a bit of bad luck and this stinking government turns its back.'

'At least you did something.' Deeks let the panel drop slightly in his hands and he turned to Raider. 'I did nothing and lost everything. One day I might learn not to make the same mistakes...Women are so beautiful, and so bewitching...Anyways, heard Rob was back in LA and thought he'd save me. He always does. I mean look - he got me in here.'

'You're lucky Billy, having a brother that supports you. Everyone just upped and left me, first sign of trouble.'

'It's just a good job we're not blood brothers.' Deeks smiled wryly, knowing that he already had Raider eating out of the palm of his hand.

'Why's that?' Raider had also stopped working and was now listening to Deeks intently. He was usually such a wise-cracking clown that it was intriguing to hear him speak seriously about himself and his mysterious brother.

Deeks took a deep breath and glanced in to the distance before meeting Raider's eyes. He could talk about his past dispassionately but using it as part of a cover was a little strange. He now began to understood why Callen reacted as he had done several weeks earlier and knew he wouldn't be impressed if he could hear the details he was about to reveal.

'I shot my father when I was nine. He was beating the crap out of my mom so I tried to stop him. He was about to lay in to me when I shot him with a gun my best friend gave me. If Rob had known me then or been my real brother, man, he would have killed my dad long before I ever reached that point.' Deeks paused, recalling the brief story Callen had relayed to him and Kensi, and one Kensi had sworn him to secrecy about a few years earlier. 'Rob was about the same age when he saw his foster dad beat his foster brother to death. About a year later he was sent to this family where the dad beat him with a broom handle. He said he was only there two weeks until he grabbed the broom and smashed it over his foster dad's head. They moved him because he was violent, not because he was abused or reacting to protect himself. He'd been in maybe ten different foster homes when we met and who knows how many children's homes. He just decided to look after me. Swore to protect me and he did. Before him, I used to go to school with bruises over my body. My teachers knew. I think a social worker even visited my mom once. They knew too. We're both proof the system doesn't work. If it wasn't for Rob I wouldn't be here now. Just wish I could have supported Rob in the same way.'

'There's a lot more to you than just a smart-ass surfer dude. I bet you were that sneaky kid that was the class clown and still got top marks in everything.'

Deeks smiled and looked in to the distance, brushing his long hair out of his eyes. Part of him wished he was having this conversation with Callen. They were getting on well and there had been no repeat of the attitude and awkwardness from their first day at the ranch. Deeks felt he had still not bonded with Callen on a deep, emotional level. He was still being kept at arm's length unlike Josh Lyneham. Strange, he thought. He almost felt jealous that his relationship with his new partner was so superficial. At least he had a deeper understanding of Callen through the odd story he'd heard. He was unsure if Callen was even aware of his own past he had buried it so deep. Deeks could relate to that and even though he could now open up to Kensi, he had a tendency to gloss over his childhood, to make light of it so he didn't have to go into details.

'If only you knew. Rob reckons I threw away my potential. I could've had a successful career in whatever I put my mind to. So I put my mind to being a bum who can't commit to relationships. Certainly am a success at that.'

Raider clapped him on the shoulder. 'Everyone here is a product of their environment. All messed up by the system in one way or another. Ex-military with no support, homeless because of the banks, starving young families who have to rely on food banks. There's even one man here who's wife died as they didn't have health insurance and couldn't afford any more treatment for her. I'm pretty sure he's here just waiting to join her in death. Heard a rumour one of the girls ran away to have an abortion after she was raped. Her home state refused to terminate the pregnancy. This country needs a wake-up call.'

'I agree, one hundred percent. I just have no idea how. We need to do something now.'

Raider lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, even though there was no one else in earshot 'There are plans, Billy. There are plans for a campaign to show how unhappy America is. We need to Make America Decent.' Raider made quote signs around the last three words and witnessed a puzzled look cross Deeks' face.

'What? Is that like a group name? Make America Decent? You do know that abbreviates to M.A.D.?'

'Sure do. All my idea too and Josh absolutely loves it.'

'Yeah Lyneham strikes me as being a bit of a whack job. No wonder he and Rob are getting along so well. Weird sense of humour.'

'You sure there's not another long lost foster brother lurking around, coz it sure looks like Josh is the third one.'

'Ha,' Deeks was intrigued that others had picked up on the close bond that had formed between Callen and Lyneham and it was something he would have loved to talk about further. Now was not the time though. He had to get Raider back on the topic of M.A.D. 'So what's this campaign you're working on?'

'You might've heard about it. A few weeks ago we let off smoke grenades at the VA hospital, a realtors, navy recruitment offices. Just before you two arrived.'

Deeks' picked up on the last sentence and covertly studied Raider for any signs he thought it was a coincidence, that their arrival was literally days after the attacks in LA. Raider seemed oblivious and continued without an apparent second thought.

'No injuries and we never claimed responsibility. We're stockpiling for another assault. DuValle and Ariel are talking with Josh about the details. Rest of us just prepare and do what we're told.'

'You should throw in an assault a church. That institution's got a lot to answer for.'

'You still harping on about your failed marriages?'

'Well someone has to, either that or I need to dip my toes in the water again and if I do that, Rob is going to do more than just knock me to the ground. Says I sometimes need castrating, but only as women tend to find me irresistible.' Deeks quickly added, just in case Raider started to tar him with the same brush as DuValle.

'I can see that you've constantly had to fight off the women here since you arrived.'

'Got my eye on the finest woman here. Ariel's stunning.'

'Yeah, stunning and aloof. She's outta your league. Outa every man's here.'

'What's her story?'

'No idea really. She's pals with DuValle, who's pals with Josh. DuValle controls things here. He's like Josh's puppet master, pulling his strings and making him dance to his tune. Ariel's up there too although whether she's DuValle's boss? Can't really see that dipshit woman hater takes orders from Ariel.'

'Seems like a strange set up.'

'Certainly is,' Raider agreed. He scratched his head using the nail he was still grasping. 'She's been around a lot more than usual.'

'Maybe she's masterminding the campaign?'

'Maybe. The one person I do know is not masterminding this whole outfit is Josh. Whatever he thinks about himself and everything he's been through in life, he's easy to manipulate.'

'Really? No way. He's just like Rob and no one could ever manipulate him.'

'If you know which buttons to push, you can work people in whatever way you want.'

Deeks narrowed his eyes as he looked at Raider. He knew Raider's words were entirely true. He had witnessed it firsthand when he and Kensi went undercover in a cult. He was also well aware of the psychological techniques undercover operatives employed, and the Feds raised the bar far higher than he'd ever experienced with LAPD. He wondered about Raider's past. He knew he'd worked special ops as part of the elite Delta Force team and Deeks was curious as to whether he had worked jointly with the CIA. If he had, then he and Callen needed to be extra vigilant. Raider could be picking up on all different types of signals; body language, words, behaviour and timings. If he was suspicious then he could have alerted Lyneham and he and Callen might be the ones now being played. The one thing the partners did have going for them was the fact their aliases were based in truth and would stand up to scrutiny.

'Hm.' Deeks pretended to give it some thought. 'Maybe.'

Raider smiled and placed the nails and hammer on the floor. He looked at his already filthy hands and then ran them through his short cropped hair.

'What say we give this a rest. There's a couple of motorbikes in top barn. D'you fancy a road trip? We can make it to the ocean and be back in time for dinner.'

Deeks met Raider's smile with a broad grin of his own. 'I think we deserve a break. It's been pretty solid work this last few week. Y'sure Josh won't mind?'

'No - we're already ahead of schedule.'

'Cool.' Deeks decided against asking any further questions. The thought of a bike ride to the coast in the company of a man who may have questionable motives and morals was something he could genuinely tolerate, especially for the good of the case. 'I just wanna see the surf, bro.'

'I need to wash this crap off me. Meet you back here in ten.'

* * *

Deeks managed to catch Callen's attention on his way back to their rooms and just as Deeks was about to leave having freshened up, Callen arrived.

'What's up?' Callen questioned Deeks, wondering why he was no longer working and clearly ready for a trip out.

'I've hit the jackpot.' Deeks beamed, ready to rile Callen. 'Raider and I decided we've worked hard enough over the last few week. We're boosting the motorbikes from the barn and heading to the coast.'

Callen sighed and raised his eyebrows, and placing his hands on his hips he looked decidedly hacked off.

'Unbelievable. How did you manage that?'

'Must be my natural charm and good looks. I can hook the guys as well as the gals.'

Callen shook his head and grinned. 'Well have fun and remember to stay true to yourself.'

'Oh that reminds me.' Deeks turned serious and motioned for Callen to follow him out the rear of their rooms. It seemed that paranoia was indeed contagious or maybe he had just spent too much time in Callen's company. 'We know Raider was Special Ops but I'm wondering if he had ties to the CIA. We need to check that out.'

'What makes you think that?'

'He made a passing comment about how we turned up days after the attacks in LA and how easy it is to manipulate someone. He reckons Josh Lyneham is being manipulated by Ariel and DuValle. He reckons one or both of them are pulling his strings.'

'Check out the CIA link. Some former Delta Force end up in the CIA as part of Special Activities Division, so take extra care. Don't fall in to any traps.'

Both men turned serious as they considered the implications if Raider had been more than just a Delta Force Special Ops man. The afternoon could be make or break time for Deeks' alias and any fallout would land squarely on Callen, provided he lived that long to face the consequences. There was no backup plan, no task force and no partners to sweep in at a moment's notice and pull them out.

'Sure thing. You too G. Get closer to Lyneham.'

Callen looked up as Deeks used 'G' as a way to show he was also concerned without breaking cover.

'I can't get much closer without dating the guy!' Callen quipped to lighten the mood. 'DuValle and Ariel are due back later today so I'll work them.'

'And don't work too hard.' Deeks nodded and walked away from Callen. He could easily manage to stay in his alias, enjoy a bike ride and the ocean. It was Callen who had the hard task today, infiltrating the inner circle of DuValle - the misogynistic rapist - and Ariel, who was even more of a challenge to get to know than Callen.


	16. Chapter 16

It seemed most of the community had taken a leaf out of Raider and Deeks' book and also taken a day off. Callen wandered around the property aimlessly thinking he must have missed some kind of message given the previous day, not that he was particularly bothered. It was the first time since arriving at the ranch that he really had time to himself. He had still managed to maintain a certain level of privacy but the undercover socialising had actually left him feeling rather exhausted. Maybe Sam was right, he thought and he was a social recluse. Lyneham was nowhere to be seen for which Callen was thankful. It meant he could freely poke around some of the other barns for evidence of explosive materials and weapons. He decided to start with the large barn that lay on the outskirts of the ranch, well aware it was also the one that ran the highest risk of him being discovered. In his own mind he logically thought there would be a better outcome if he was caught snooping during the day than under the cover of night. He was not sure how he would be treated if found, as three days previous Deeks had prised information from some of the kids that this was an out of bounds area. One of the older boys had received a hiding when he was found to have picked the lock and was attempting to jack open one of many long wooden crates. He had also told Deeks he had seen stacks of canisters emblazoned with the sign for hazardous materials.

Aware there was no one else around at least on the outside, Callen confidently approached the barn door. He tested the lock and was surprised to find it open, which most likely meant someone was inside. Throwing all caution to the wind he pulled the door wide and marched inside, calling out a brazen 'hello'. Not waiting for a response he continued walking to where several dozen large crates were stacked. Callen tapped his fingers on the top as he could see none were open. Glancing to his right he caught sight of the marked containers the kid had told Deeks about. He walked to the other side of the barn and was about to lean down to read the labels when he heard the click of a safety catch being released. Slowly he held up his hands and turned around.

'Well?'

'Well what?' Callen replied keeping his hands in the air and glaring at Ariel indignantly. 'Why the hell are you pointing a gun at me?'

'Maybe because I've just found you sticking your nose in areas that don't concern you?'

'And how am I doing that exactly?' Callen lowered his hands despite the gun still aimed at his torso. 'The door was unlocked, no one answered when I called out...'

'I don't trust you.' Ariel stated bluntly.

'Yeah? Does it look like I give a damn? I don't trust you either. In fact I don't even like you.'

'Clearly. You look like you've never given a damn about anything in your life, even about your dirty looking so-called brother. I saw the way you laid into him the other week.'

'Self-preservation.' Callen said instinctively, wondering if Ariel had actually witnessed his staged altercation with Deeks or was relying on second hand information.

'More like self- _ish_.' Ariel didn't crack a smile and still the gun was held steady.

'Wow, that's clever. You could really go places with that level of intellect.'

'And you could really be cruising for a beating with that mouth of yours.'

'You gonna shoot me? Because fantastic though this conversation is, I'd much rather have you give me the guided tour of this barn rather than adding to my collection of bullet wounds.'

Ariel cocked her head slightly to her left and with a sudden and decisive move, holstered her gun. She maintained her distance from Callen and looked expectantly at him.

'What?' Callen asked.

'Geez are you always this grumpy?'

'Only when a beautiful woman pulls a gun on me.'

'I thought you didn't like me?'

'Don't mistake flattery for friendship. Self preservation, remember?'

'When were you shot?'

'Nine years ago. Multiple times. Caught without a vest.'

'Hmm, forgot about self preservation?'

'I was having a bad day.'

'Obviously. Where were you shot?'

'Body, shoulder, leg...Wanna see?'

'Not particularly. I meant whereabouts were you when you were shot?'

Callen sighed. He had no idea where this was leading and was very glad Eric had agreed to his re-imagining of his drive-by shooting as a black ops incident. In fact his shooting was almost forgotten until he was changing into his undercover wardrobe and caught sight of the faded bullet wound on his shoulder.

'I was part of a clandestine military task force in Iraq, 2009. Let's just say certain factions had to be neutralised before the US handed over security duties to the local military. And I was having a _very_ bad day. The rest is classified.'

'Interesting. Your records suggest you disobeyed your superior officer and went off on your own instead of waiting for your unit.'

'Well I'm suggesting my records and that operation are highly classified so how the hell have you found out that.'

Callen had every faith in Nell and Eric's ability to backstop his alias to the hilt and he was intrigued how the group had broken through his redacted files - albeit fake. There was also an uneasy feeling gnawing away at the back of his mind. If someone was that good at hacking and had a counterpart equally as good at analysing, there was an increased risk of at least one of their alias's being discovered. If one was discovered, the other would be compromised too.

'We're not a bunch of backward hillbillies.' Ariel caught the smirk on Callen's face and added. 'Well, not all of us.'

'So what is this place?' Callen asked casually looking around now it appeared the immediate threat to his life had passed. Without waiting for an answer he continued. 'This is to do with Josh's plan to take a stand against the establishment isn't it? He said he was behind some smoke bomb in LA a few weeks ago. Well I'll tell you who I'd target - the welfare system and the CIA.'

Ariel folded her arms and studied Callen. She was intrigued that Josh Lyneham had very quickly formed a bond with Rob, as it was out of character. It had seemed more than a strange coincidence they shared the same childhood experiences and then both enlisted in the military to escape their past. Anton DuValle had initially believed Rob was the real deal but now he had his reservations. Ariel shared his concerns although she privately thought he was jealous of the new recruit's relationship with Lyneham. DuValle had readily agreed to Ariel finding out more about the man who stood in front of her. They were not concerned about Billy. Background checks confirmed he was who he said he was and they were convinced he was harmless. It had been noted from various arrest records that Billy had a temper and was not afraid to use his fists against a fellow man or on occasion, a woman. With Lyneham throwing all caution to the wind where Rob was concerned, Ariel realised this was a prime opportunity to discover more about the man who was weaving his way in to the inner sanctum of their group.

'Why?' Ariel asked, curious to know what motivated the man in front of her.

'Child welfare are not fit to look after a bag of laundry let alone scared and traumatised kids. The only thing they did for me was teach me how to take a beating and make sure that no place would ever feel like home. And the CIA are the idiots behind every black ops mission I ever worked, and no doubt all those I didn't. They're responsible for my shooting, my PTSD, the fact I can't get a job, having no home, no girl...'

Ariel refrained from offering a sarcastic retort. Rob's story was no different from many others she'd heard.

'Are they responsible for your criminal activities too?'

'What?' Callen looked genuinely puzzled. His juvenile criminal record was sealed by a court and Hetty was the only person who knew about that. Well Sam had an idea about it too now - and Deeks. He narrowed his eyes in confusion and then mentally kicked himself, realising he had momentarily been caught between his alias and his real identity. He exhaled loudly. 'The CIA were only behind the crimes I committed with my unit. The rest were all me.'

Ariel broke away from holding Callen's stare and moved towards the crates. Grabbing a crowbar from behind one she levered open the box, allowing the lid to fall to the floor.

'Tell me what that is.'

Callen stepped forward and studied the contents of the box. Neatly packed with straw were military grade weapons. He leaned down and picked one up.

'You really going to test me?'

'Yes.'

'This is a M249 light belt-fed machine gun. Gas operated with a folding bipod attached near the front with adjustable legs. It can also be hard mounted. I preferred the Para version with the collapsible buttstock. Makes it shorter, lighter and better to use in close combat. Talk to Raider, it's the special ops weapon of choice. In 2009 the military phased in the M27. They're more accurate, reliable and harder for enemy troops to identify. You have old stock.'

'When was the last time you made a bomb?'

Callen sighed. This was really becoming a game of twenty questions and he sincerely hoped the prize would be coming his way soon.

'Couple of years ago.'

'Indulge me. Tell me the story, the why's and the how's.'

'Some guys had something I wanted, so I said I had something of theirs and demanded a meet. I rigged the car by filling the trunk with old clothes and poured gas over them. I ripped the battery out of another car and connected it to the trunk release switch. I taped a pistol underneath the front of the car. So when they opened the trunk with the remote - boom. I dropped to the ground, grabbed the gun and took out their players.'

'And what was this something they had that you wanted?'

'I don't want to answer that.'

'Why?'

'Because it's personal.'

'There's only you and me here. I won't tell anyone. It'll be our little secret.'

Callen closed his eyes briefly. Keep it real he thought, remember to stick close to the truth. Too many lies and you'll get caught out.

'I thought they'd kidnapped a man who was my father. Turns out he wasn't.'

'You don't know your father?'

'No.' He had no desire to discuss the matter further and turning his back on Ariel, he returned the gun to the crate and placed the lid loosely on top. A hammer and nails would be required to reseal it and he could see neither. He moved to a nearby crate and sat down.

Ariel stared at Rob. A natural curiosity overtook her and she made a mental note to dig further in to his childhood. If redacted military records could be hacked, sealed social welfare records and any juvenile files should be easy to crack. Nothing she'd heard so far indicated he was not the real deal. Maybe DuValle was just jealous and his emotions were bleeding in to her own thoughts.

'Y'know we got a lot of kids here that have been through the system. No one has anything good to say about social services. One girl - a child prostitute - was picked up by local LEOs and delivered to them. Several months later she's placed with a foster family where the uncle farmed her out to his friends. We have an army of people including children here ready to fight, ready to force the government to take note of how they repeatedly let the people down, force them to see they need to make the changes to make America decent.'

'So let's take the fight to them. I can provide overwatch, make IEDs, strategise and fight. Jesus I could even assassinate someone and you would never know how it'd been done.' Callen stopped himself from offered to go undercover to gain trust and inside information. That might have been a step too far and a possible giveaway.

'There's a meeting tomorrow after breakfast to plan the next attacks - strategising and training plans for the men, women and children.'

'I'll be there. Clever idea, getting kids involved. Was that yours?'

'DuValle's actually.'

Callen nodded. There wasn't much he could say to that. He wasn't sure if it surprised him that DuValle would have no qualms about manipulating and using children. While he could easily appreciate kids could access areas unobtrusively, to deliberately place them in danger and use them to further his cause was just wrong and another nail in DuValle's coffin - figuratively speaking of course.

'You need a hand with anything?' Callen asked, more out of politeness than any desire actually help.

'I'm good. Go take a drive downtown or to the coast. Or drink yourself to sleep - whatever it is you do to relax. If you ever relax.'

Ariel's superior attitude had returned and Callen was suddenly glad she had declined his offer of assistance. After such an odd encounter with one of his marks he now had no desire to try and cosy up to DuValle. Instead he wondered if he could borrow a car and head back to the city, maybe meet up with Sam or Kensi to get details on the case from ops.

'Maybe I'll do all three.' Callen replied with a wink to Ariel, who wrinkled her nose in disdain.

'Whatever. Just be here and alert for breakfast tomorrow, nine sharp.'

Callen raised his eyebrows at Ariel and turned his back on her, thinking for a split second she might level her gun at his head and pull the trigger. He exited the barn, blinking in the bright sunlight and considered where Josh might be. He was pretty sure there weren't enough vehicles on the ranch to facilitate every man and woman who fancied shooting off for the day and he hoped he could catch a ride.

He caught up with Lyneham just minutes before he left the ranch. He had planned on taking the newly refurbished Challenger for a spin with one of the other men but the slightly haunted look he glimpsed on Callen's face persuaded him to ditch his original companion in favour of his newest buddy. The pair barely spoke and Lyneham almost wordlessly agreed they would hit Venice, despite knowing Rob's encounter with the police before arriving at his door. Both men had passed one liners at how their mechanical skills meant the Challenger might break down before reaching the main road and it was mainly due to the expertise of the other men, that the car proved to be as reliable as Sam's latest version. The journey itself was uneventful and in just under two hours they arrived at Venice. Callen glanced wistfully at the turn which would have led him towards the boatshed and he allowed himself to smile a little at the thought of seeing Anna again. He had managed to talk to Nell in between leaving Ariel and finding Lyneham and he knew Anna would be waiting for him at the Rusty Anchor, a small local bar located in an alley of East Venice. Lyneham agreed to meet Callen there in a few hours time. He had other business to attend to, namely knocking on his girlfriend's door and demanding to know why she was refusing to answer his calls.


	17. Chapter 17

Callen stepped out of the Challenger and nodded a thanks to Lyneham. He stood outside the Rusty Anchor and took a deep breath. This was one of the bars he avoided in Venice. It was small yet in the evenings it was packed full of twenty somethings who were keen to avoid the tourist trap of the stylistic dive bars. The music was loud, the floor sticky and the only food sold were large bags of pre-packed chips. During the day it was fairly quiet although the ambience was pretty much the same. He sincerely hoped Anna had found a seat in an area where he wouldn't have to spend the entire time shouting. Callen glanced around and not seeing her, ordered a beer and turned so he was leaning against the bar. He took a small sip and allowed himself a moment to relax. He surveyed his surroundings. For a lunchtime the place was busy. It was a hot day outside and indoors the women were wearing high cut shorts and revealing tops; some in bikini tops. The men too were in shorts and in line with the only rule the bar seemed to have, they were all wearing t-shirts or muscle tops. A peel of laughter pierced the grinding base beat of some tune with which Callen was unfamiliar and he instantly recognised the laugh as Anna's. He looked in the direction of the sound and saw a group of men hovering around the pool table. Hoping he would not have to get in to a fight he pushed himself off the bar and strode with purpose to where Anna was standing, pool cue in hand, watching her opponent take a shot.

'Anna.' Callen pushed past two men with a smile on his face. There was nothing in his alias to say he couldn't express his true feelings during this meet.

'Oh my God, Rob.' Anna met his smile with a genuine jaw dropping smile. She quickly handed her cue to the nearest man and jumped up at her real life boyfriend, wrapping her legs around his waist causing Callen to stumble back. She planted a series of kisses on his lips, each one lasting longer than the previous until the two were temporarily lost in their emotions.

'This was not the reaction I was expecting. I should go on long term undercover missions more,' Callen breathed into Anna's ear as he buried his head in her neck and hair.

Anna unwrapped herself from Callen and stood close to him. Callen was now feeling very self-conscious about their little display of affection and he moved back a little, giving himself more space.

'Don't you dare. Do you have any idea how many of those men think it's ok to try and grope me and how much I just want to whack them in the balls with my pool cue?'

'Do you want me to take them out?' Violence was something he could handle without too many emotions getting in his way. But then again there were other options... 'I have two hours until Lyneham joins us. I know a great rooming house just a five minute walk from here.'

'Uh ah.' Anna wagged her finger at Callen and turned back around to face her audience of men. 'Kieran you take my shots. I've got some catching up to do.'

Anna reached towards the window ledge and took her bottle of beer. Turning to Callen she grabbed his arm and led him towards a booth near the entrance.

'I'm serious y'know.' Callen said as they sat down. 'Five minutes from here. Complete privacy and we can debrief.'

Anna smiled coyly. 'I'm sure we could but there are eyes and ears everywhere.' Anna discretely tapped her ear and pursed her lips when Callen rolled his eyes. 'I hear voices in my head and they're telling me to stay put.'

'Hmm,' Callen shook his head and kept his thoughts to himself. 'Seriously though I probably have at least an hour before Lyneham returns after finding his girlfriend isn't home. I take it Lizzie and her son are still safe at Hetty's beach house?'

'Yes they are. Tyler is having an awesome time with the sea front on his doorstep.'

'Good. How's Sam and Kensi?'

'Both doing great although both pissed they can't be on the ground helping you and Deeks.'

'Has Deeks checked in yet?'

'Sort of. He managed to contact ops en route to Ventura. He is due to meet Kensi later this afternoon. I think he wants to get in some surfing first. You know Hetty is starting to wonder how much work you two are actually doing.'

'It's a long term undercover mission. You know what that means. We have to be patient and build up relationships to earn their trust. It's not your typical wham bam one day job.'

'Wham bam?' Anna smiled at Callen. 'I think you've spent too much time with Deeks.'

Callen ignored the comment and continued.

'What have you found out about Lyneham. I told Nell he was in the system and changed his name before signing up for the marines and she's never come back with an update. There's also at least one person with serious computer skills. They've dived in to my alias and this morning I was asked some questions which could have become very awkward.'

'Do you think they're on to you?'

'I think they're being cautious. Tomorrow they're going to reveal the second stage of attacks and Deeks and I are being invited to their inner circle. They need to trust us. To trust me. And Josh is my ticket in, same as Raider is for Deeks.'

'Josh hey?' Anna tilted her head to one side. 'And yes Nell did find out his real name. She passed it on to Hetty so she could do some more background checks, cross reference them to yours.'

She looked at Callen who had now leaned back in his chair and was carefully and deliberately placing his beer on the table in front on him. He glanced up and met Anna's stare.

'She thinks we met before? In another life? I'd remember if we had...'

When Anna failed to answer, he continued. 'And?'

'His real name is Daniel Joshua Miller.'

This time Callen remained silent. He continued to look at Anna, waiting for more information as she in turn waited for any kind of reaction from him.

'You know him?'

'No. What did Hetty say?'

'She didn't. Does the name ring any bells?'

'No.'

'Callen, are you sure?'

'Yes.'

'I'm sorry to have to say this Callen. Everything we've heard so far suggests that you've genuinely connected with Joshua Lyneham on a personal level. Hetty is worried about you. And she still thinks you and Joshua might have met in another life, as you put it.'

'Why?'

Anna shook her head and smiled. 'I'd almost forgotten how much hard work you could be. Trust, Callen. Trust. Only too much of it this time. Hetty thinks you trust Lyneham, that there is some bond between you and that means she's worried you're losing your focus'

'Hetty doesn't trust me.' Callen stated. He drained the rest of his bottle and signalled to the barman for another.

'Hetty does trust you Callen, stop being so sensitive.'

'I'm not being sensitive Anna. Either she trusts me on this case or she pulls me out. And I'm not going anywhere. I'm in this to the end. These people are using kids to do their dirty work. Look, tomorrow morning Deeks and I are sitting at the big boys table - we become part of their planning process which means we can start to gain control of their operations, plant seeds of doubt and alternative thoughts in their minds. This morning I found evidence they have access to decommissioned military weapons. They haven't been used in the field for a few years so get the wonder twins to check inventories for old stock - missing M249s. DuValle is the man behind this, assisted by Ariel. Josh and the others just seem to be swept up in the excitement. Oh and there's no sign of the militia yet but I reckon they'll be arriving in the next few days.'

Anna took a sip from her own bottle of beer, conscious of not drinking too much. She could hold her liquor well, not quite as well as Callen though and she was closely observing his actions. Hetty had gently advised her to check on Callen's health and physically she could tell he was great. His hair was longer and already lightened by the sun. His stubble was slightly unruly but he looked trim. An outdoor lifestyle and presumably healthy eating seemed to suit him. His talk of Hetty and his stubbornness to remain on the case had ignited a spark in his eyes. The passion and determination of his words seemed a little at odds with how he spoke - or rather avoided - the conversation about Daniel Joshua Miller, AKA Josh Lyneham and that was certainly cause for concern.

'You went in believing that Lyneham was behind this. Don't let your judgement sway your emotions just because he had a similar childhood to yours. Hetty and Nate-'

'I need some fresh air.' Hearing Nate's name jarred Callen in to action and he slid out of the booth, walking quickly to the exit.

'Wait...'

Anna followed Callen outside and saw him leaning with his back against the grimy wall. His eyes were closed and he was breathing deeply. It was obvious he was conflicted and she was unsure whether it was the case or the thought that Hetty didn't trust him. She walked up to him and pressed her hips to his.

'I don't want us to fight. I want to help.'

Callen moved his arms to Anna's waist and opened his eyes, gently bringing his forehead to hers. There was so much he wanted to tell Anna but couldn't. Starting with Nate. The last thing he needed was Nate manoeuvring around inside his head. The second to last thing he needed was Hetty telling him how to do his job and arguing with Anna really wasn't helping him. Maybe he should have just stayed on the ranch and enjoyed the solitude.

'I know.' The couple remained in the same position for a few moments longer when a loud cough caused them to abruptly separate.

'Geez you are just full of surprises. No wonder you wanted to come to this bar.'

A slow smile spread across Callen's face as he looked to his left. He took Anna's hand and spoke.

'Josh, this is Anna.'

'Hey Anna. Don't suppose you have a sister? It looks like my girlfriend has skipped town.'

Anna laughed a no, which Callen spoke over.

'Really? No sign of her?'

'Couple of pothead kids reckon she went off with some men in a black Mercedes. Dumb-ass kids could describe the car but not the men.'

'So what next?' Callen cringed inwardly that the kids had been able to recall anything of use from a few weeks ago.

'Next? I just move on. Should be used to it by now. I would say you can help me drown my sorrows but you've already had a head start so I guess I'm driving. Again.'

'But there is a pool table and a lot of men for the taking.' Anna said persuasively, with a wink and a sly smile.

'I'll pretend to be a smart-ass drunk and we have some fun.' Callen nodded his head as the idea took shape. It'd been a while since he'd played this game.

'Pretend?' Anna said, pointedly ignoring the look Callen gave her. 'We can make some easy money, especially when I start playing.'

The two men shared a knowing look. Pool tables, packed bars and alcohol meant a lot of fun could be had and a lot of money could be made.

'I can see why Rob likes you, Anna.' Lyneham nodded approvingly.

'Hands off,' smiled Callen. 'Now let's go hustling.'


End file.
